Friday, 4 Jul 08
Dearly departed
Lately she hasn’t been coming as often as she used to. The fruit is soft and rotted, the ash has blown away. He lingers, disconsolately, ever watching, ever hopeful. But each day he knows he fades a little more.
When there is nobody left to remember him, then he will be forgotten.
He isn’t the only one. All the others suffer the same fate - they hover around aimlessly, listlessly, waiting in hope to be remembered and sustained for just a little longer. Their features are slowly rubbed away like the melted nub of a candle stub, like statues worn by unforgiving rain. Many of those he’d known when he’d first arrived have long since disappeared, lost by the thoughtlessness and forgetfulness of those they once loved. Some strut, still proudly intact, but all in time will receive their due.
This he knows. It has happened to him.
At first she had been faithful. She would bring fresh fruit, she would light new candles and burn heaps of paper to remember him by. His face had constantly been framed in fragrant smoke, his features remained clear. He’d been sure she would always come. If not this month, then the next; if not the next, then always she would remember the anniversary, wouldn’t she? Wouldn’t she.
But her visits grew further and further apart. This year, the date has come and gone, and still no one has come to visit.
He feels his left cheek slough away as the wind blows by like a fatal kiss.
Soon no one will remember him.
Soon he will be forgotten.
JADEITE