The Spoon

<<font;_italic>March 14, 1870

I can no longer hold on to this small community that we have built together. As each day goes by I am certain that we are living on borrowed time. They will never know the whole story as I am certain that it will be concealed. I pray that my other pieces of work will stand the test of time. I have given all that I had to settle on the bank of this great river. My only regret is that I fear that there will be little time to escape our fate. I have taught the people to trust the white man - but it is the white man who will lead them to their deaths all for the sake of this small parcel of land that they wish to possess.

Reverend Ra

This small scrap of paper torn from a journal that I cannot find is all that remains of the fate of the families that used to occupy this area. I always felt that there was something out here...a story that had to be told and a wrong that must be set right.

My name is Elijah Mason and my story started almost ten years ago as I was out walking. I work in a small office building situated in a piece of land that used to be nothing more than a dumping ground for bodies in the early 1930's. I was told this but I can neither confirm nor deny those statements.

This building always seemed out of place. It was as if a flood washed the building onto its current location. The front of the building faces a highway and the back faces a long city street. But, the woods have always called out to me as if there's a voice out there, beckoning me and almost begging me to investigate...something.

So, I was out walking one day on company property and I came across what appeared to be a reddish brown boulder next to a large pile of dirt left over after an excavation of some sort. I inspected this stone because it seemed out of place. I mustered up enough strength to flip it over and I noticed writing etched into the front of the stone - it was a grave marker!

I looked around searching for some sort of telltale sign of a hidden burial ground. I tried to read the stone but the writing was as if it was sandblasted away. I even called the historical society and they dismissed it as a stone-cutters error or a stone that had fallen off of a truck.

I scoured the internet for any type of clue and I couldn't find anything. I did find one inquiry on the web from one of my coworkers from the early 90's, but no one replied with additional information. Years

Impressum

Verlag: BookRix GmbH & Co. KG

Texte: Copyright 2011 Tyrone Vincent Banks
Lektorat: Tyrone V. Banks
Tag der Veröffentlichung: 09.06.2011
ISBN: 978-3-7396-8971-5

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Dedicated to God.