#tomorrow when the farm boys find this freak of nature they will wrap his body in newspaper and carry him to the museum but tonight he is | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

collecting-stories · 2 years

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Two-Headed Calf - Eddie Munson

Summary: You and Eddie are soulmates, but neither of you knows how to tell the other.

A/N: I got the idea for this when I was writing my Steve Harrington AU drabble. I love love this poem and I was thinking of Eddie and it made me think of this poem and I had to write this. Also I am EXTREMELY nervous because this is my first Eddie fic so handle me with kid gloves. My feelings are fragile.

Stranger Things Masterlist

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Tomorrow when the farm boys find this

freak of nature, they will wrap his body

in newspaper and carry him to the museum.

-February 1982-

Some people waited decades to meet their soulmates. You had waited a mere six hours, if even that. You’d woken up on the morning of your 16th birthday to a warmth on your arm, the kind that made you rush to the bathroom and look in the mirror.

And there it was, your soulmate tattoo, exactly at the time you had been born, sixteen years prior. A two headed calf with a moon and stars that looked oddly soft and gentle for being a tattoo. You recognized the meaning because it was your favorite poem and the thought alone made your entire heart feel like it was swelling. Maybe it was silly and wistful but you thought the whole notion was romantic and you’d read what felt like thousands of accounts of people finding their soulmates. So you knew, when you saw the tattoo, that it was something different, something you’d only heard about happenings handful of times, something extremely rare, that whoever your soulmate was, you had the same tattoo.

It was common knowledge that each person’s tattoo was unique, a symbol that was meant to encapsulate something important about their soulmate. But when a tattoo said as much about you as it did about the person you were bound to, that was something deeper. Whatever was more binding than a soulmate, as if you’d been truly cut from the same cloth.

When you saw the two-headed calf you were excited, bewildered, nervous, happy. It was a rush of emotions coursing through you that didn’t fade away until you were in first period math, sitting in the same seat that you always did, staring at the chalkboard in the front of the room as other students filed in. Getting your tattoo didn’t mean that you were going to find your soulmate right away.

Your mom had never even met hers. Your dad had, ten years into their marriage, and now he lived in Denver, Colorado with a new wife and family. Your aunt and uncle finally met five years after college. You didn’t know anyone who had met their soulmate right away but then Eddie Munson came in, looking tired and maybe a little burnout for eight in the morning on a Wednesday. He dropped into the seat next to you, like he did every day of the week, and you noticed (for the first time maybe) a familiar tattoo peeking out from the sleeve of his shirt.

Eddie Munson had turned 16 three days before you. You knew because you were the only February birthdays in Mrs. Prescott’s third grade class and your mom had brought in double the cupcakes on your birthday and Eddie had handed them out with you. When you’d walked down to the office and specials classrooms he’d gone with you and the two of you had giggled about getting to skip math that day.

“Did you get the invitation to my birthday party?” You had asked as you made your way back through the halls. Music was next and you didn’t want to miss it, even if your teacher was weird. “I’m gonna have a bowling party.”

“My uncle’s not sure if he works that day.” Eddie had gotten it, the crisp white envelope sitting in his backpack at the end of the school day. Mrs. Prescott had been teaching cursive since January and you had written out Eddie’s name in neat, looping letters. It was the first birthday he’d been invited to that school year.

“My mom could pick you up.” You suggested, pausing in the hallway. “Oh! We could have two cakes!”

“Two cakes?” Eddie looked completely bewildered by the suggestion, “what for?”

“Me and you.” You bumped your hip against his and smiled when icing from his cupcake smeared on his nose, “we can have a joint birthday!”

There was an extra cupcake in your locker right now, waiting for you to work up the nerve that you’d sworn you would every February since sixth grade and give it to Eddie during lunch. He subconsciously pushed up the ¾ sleeve and itched his arm over the tattoo, giving you a better look at what you knew was there…a soul mark to match your own.

“Did you get it?” Your best friend dropped into the seat in front of you and turned to look at you eagerly. Lizzie’d gotten hers at the beginning of January, the first of your friends to get a soul mark. She’d gotten a bumblebee on her wrist, much smaller and more delicate than yours. More immediately noticeable as well, though you weren’t sure you really wanted yours to be on display. Eddie wasn’t paying attention, or if he was he did a good job of looking disinterested.

“Yeah, I’ll show you after class.” You promised.

You weren’t entirely sure that you’d spoken to Eddie since third grade. You always wanted to talk to him, thought about it after the talent show in middle school when Corroded Coffin preformed a Black Sabbath song you’d never heard of. Your mom was on the PTL that year and went to bat for Eddie (after you’d insisted that he was your friend) with the other moms who thought the music was satanic and disgusting. It wasn’t a stretch to say you had a crush on him. It wasn’t like you were popular by any means, if anything you were skating just below the surface, invisible to most people and happy with that status. Eddie liked the attention, you thought sometimes, he liked everybody looking at him, even if it was because he was a social pariah.

But Eddie was...Eddie and you just weren’t sure you stacked up. You didn’t have a cool taste in music, you didn’t dress edgy, you’d never played Dungeons & Dragons (though you knew how, in case the moment ever presented itself and you had the chance to talk to Eddie again). You weren’t interesting enough for him, you’d decided that long before you knew he was your soulmate, when it was still just a meaningless crush that you harbored.

“Where is it?” Lizzie was still pressing for a sneak peek but there was no way you were going to pull your sleeve up and show her when your soulmate in question was sitting right beside you.

“I’ll show you after class,” you repeated, stealing a glance at Eddie as he rubbed at his arm again. You could feel the slight tingling across the inside of your elbow and forearm, as if goosebumps had erupted across your skin. As hard as it was to concentrate on math, you tried desperately to ignore the feeling on your arm, too afraid to itch your freshly visible tattoo for fear that Eddie might notice.

After class felt like it would never happen, your knee bobbing nervously under the desk as the minutes ticked on. You weren’t sure how long you had zoned out for but one minute you were listening to the teacher talking over linear equations and the next you were envisioning what it might be like if Eddie knew that you were sitting there beside him with the same tattoo.

Would he kiss you? You were pretty sure you’d give just about anything to kiss him. You’d spent plenty of time thinking about the soft fullness of his lips and how pretty he looked when he smiled and how much you wanted to run your fingers through his hair and sit on his lap and make out with him until you were short of breath.

“You okay?”

You turned to the side, looking at Eddie like a deer caught in headlights. The bell for the end of class had rung and you had jumped practically out of your seat when the sound jostled you out of your daydream. Eddie was looking at you with all the concern in the world while Lizzie tapped your desk with her knuckles.

“Lets go,” either she hadn’t seen your jump scare moment or she was so used to you fazing out in class that she wasn’t bothered in the slightest, more so, she was eager to see this tattoo and wouldn’t stop bugging you until you showed her.

“Uh, yeah, okay,” you still felt dazed as you stood up, Eddie standing up at the same time, retrieving your backpack off the floor and holding it out for you. “Thanks, I’m okay.” You promised, taking the bag, your fingers brushing against his.

A soft jolt, like the after effect of an electric shock, ran up your arm. A warm sensation surged through you and you pulled your hand back quickly, avoiding eye contact as you heard Eddie call your name. If you turned around and looked at him you were liable to tell him your secret, that he was your soulmate.

You couldn’t though. You couldn’t do that to him. People like Eddie moved to New York City and played gigs at CBGB’s and had gorgeous groupies hanging all over them. They didn’t stay in Hawkins, saddled to some starry-eyed kid who shared a birthday month and a tattoo with them.

Lizzie pulled you down the hallway and into the bathroom, pushing the stall doors open to make sure no one else was in there with you. While she made a final inspection you dropped your bag to the floor and pushed off your jacket so you could take your shirt off for her to see the tattoo.

The two headed calf looked back at you from the dingy mirror on the wall, half obscured by Lizzie’s head as she inspected the tattoo. “Weird.” She mused, “I don’t get it.”

“Who knows, it’s just a cow.” As much as you loved Lizzie and as close as you were, there were things you’d never share with her. Like favorite poems about conjoined cows.

“With two heads. Figures you’d get some weirdo as your soulmate.”

“You don’t know that,” you sounded more offended than someone who’d just gotten their soul mark that morning and had little to no way of knowing who it belonged to.

Lizzie didn’t seem to notice though, “I thought it’d be something cool.”

You rolled your eyes. Who was she to comment on the ‘coolness’ of your tattoo? A bumblebee was hardly ‘cool’. It was just a bumblebee. There wasn’t even any originality in it. You shrugged your shoulders before you could say anything you regretted and grabbed your backpack. Lizzie had cut into your time to grab books and you really didn’t want to be late to class. Nor did you want to continue any conversation with her that would include making fun of the tattoo you were so fond of.

The bell for lunch sent your stomach back into a spiral. You’d gone through Spanish and Science without Eddie being physically beside you, though he’d taken up plenty of space in your mind. It was in the middle of biology that you decided you were going to finally, actually, go through with the plan that you came up with every year on your birthday. You were going to get the confetti cake cupcake from your locker and you were going to broach the Hellfire table and you were going to give him the cupcake. It was a little late for his birthday but you didn’t think he’d care either way.

But now you were staring at the tupperware container with the cupcake in it and feeling self conscious about giving it to him. What if he thought it was stupid? What if he made fun of you? That one seemed unlikely. You’d known him since kindergarten technically and you’d never known him to be mean.

Deep breath in, you reminded yourself, you could do this. Even if he didn’t know it yet, you were technically destined to be together, in all the universe no one would ever love you as much or understand you as deeply as Eddie Munson, so surely he’d accept a cupcake. Even if he didn’t know yet, he had felt the same jolt as you. You knew he did because when you looked back into the math class he was staring at his hand like it’d caught fire.

“Happy birthday,” you announced, stopping beside his seat and holding the Tupperware out to him. He was in the middle of a heated music debate with one of the other guys you recognized from the talent show. Eddie’s head whipped around so fast you half expected it to turn all the way like an owl. It was his turn to look like a deer in headlights, spooked and confused all at once.

“What?” His mouth was slightly agape as he stared up at you, eyes practically sparkling as he put two and two together. “A present? For me?” The boyish wit and charm returned in full force like a sucker punch to your heart as he placed his hands over yours and pulled the Tupperware toward him, “why, I am just beside myself,” his voice was high-pitched, his accent a caricature of a southern belle. Still, that familiar gleam in his eye couldn’t be missed as he opened the lid and looked down into the container, a cupcake (the top a little mashed in) with rainbow jimmies.

“My mom made them for my birthday,” you explained, “I figured, since it was just your birthday too...” As you spoke you crossed your arms in front of yourself, tucking your hand against your forearm and itching at the tattoo as inconspicuously as possible.

The playfulness that had been in Eddie’s eyes a moment ago flickered away, another emotion, something like surprise mixed with happiness, took its place. The boy you’d known to always have something to say, said nothing. He just stared at the cupcake, almost transfixed, tongue darting out to wet his lips.

“It’s confetti...well it’s vanilla but you know, with jimmies baked in.” You further explained, unsure what to do with an Eddie that wasn’t loud and goofy and theatrical.

Finally Eddie looked back up at you, “thank you, I uh...thank you.”

“Yeah, hope you like it. I uh,” you looked back toward your usual table, Lizzie already sitting down with her lunch, “I have to go eat.”

“Yeah, yeah, of course.”

You turned around and walked back to your table as quickly as possible, trying to breath in and out to stop the warm throbbing in your side. You’d read once that ignoring the tattoo, if you were near the person that was your soulmate, could lead to eventual pain in the area of your soul mark. You almost wondered if it was starting already. A quick glance back to the table and Eddie was eating the cupcake, some icing smudged in the corner of his mouth. When he put the tupperware down for a second and itched at his arm you thought for a split second about walking right back over and kissing him and seeing what would happen.

But then Lizzie called your name and you were pulled back into reality.

-June 1983-

It was the end of the school year when Eddie found his soulmate. The two-headed calf tattoo on the inside of his forearm and elbow was one he’d spent hours staring at since it first showed up in February. He’d read the poem for the first time in seventh grade, leaning over the back of your chair in the library with his head on your shoulder and his cheek pressed against yours.

He remembered the afternoon perfectly, as if he had a television in his brain and he was watching a rerun of an episode of his life. Or at least the highlight reel.

You were waiting for your mom (who was always nice but also always late) working on your english homework, when Eddie came in. He’d been on the run from the same basketball playing future sociopaths that still tormented him now, at the end of junior year. The library doors looked like the gateway heaven, or at least that’s what he told you later on when he recounted what had brought him into your personal space (literally, you were convinced that Eddie lacked spacial awareness along with a few other things that probably should have made him less endearing).

But the library doors, like a gateway to heaven glowing at the top of the ramp to the second floor. He booked it, his old converse squeaking in protest, and entered the room with a flourish only Eddie Munson could harness.

“Holy shit!” He’d been laid up against the door trying to catch his breath when he saw you. It wasn’t the first time he had talked to you since third grade but every time left butterflies in the pit of his stomach. He pushed off the wooden door, heading straight for your chair. He pressed his hands down on the back rung and crouched down, leaning over you and placing his chin on your shoulder.

You’d seen him come in, heard him call your name when he saw you, so you didn’t jump when you felt him practically draping himself over you. By seventh grade you were more than used to Eddie and his antics.

“What’re you doing?”

“Homework.” You replied, not turning your head for fear that you’d be in a predicament that you both wanted to be in and wanted to avoid. You imagined all those trashy romance novels you smuggled from your mom’s room; the main characters catching each other off guard so one could kiss the other.

Eddie groaned, stumbling away from you as if you’d shoved him, practically tripping over the table as he threw himself into the chair beside you. His elbow collided with the tabletop and he rested his head against his palm, “boring!” He exclaimed, drawing out the word.

“It’s not boring Eddie,” you insisted as he took the poetry book from you. The English assignment had been fairly cut and dry, discussing the meaning of a favorite poem.

“What poem is this?” He asked, reading the one that you highlighted. There were notes in the margins, you annotated what you could and Eddie got that stupid little grin on his face as he read your handwriting. It had gotten smaller since third grade, neater too.

“The two-headed calf.”

On your sixteenth birthday Eddie had sat beside you in class, hopefully when Lizzie mentioned the tattoo but you wouldn’t say anything about it. He wanted to demand that you show him, wherever it was, because he’d been thinking of you for the last three days and he desperately wanted to know if it was you. It had to be you, didn’t it? But did you even remember?

It was June and it was hotter than usual and Lizzie, who lived a few trailers away from his humble abode, had invited you over to sun bath. (“I need to be tan for summer.” She had insisted) You had walked passed his place and he was outside smoking and you stopped.

Eddie knew it wasn’t unusual that you did, you’d always been nice to him. You’d always been nice to everyone but that didn’t stop the thudding in his heart every time you looked his way, it was like winning the lottery when he hadn’t even entered. Normal people didn’t get so lucky.

“Hey, Eddie.” You say his name like you’re always happy to see him and for the briefest second Eddie imagines that it’s him you’re coming to see and not Lizzie. That you’d sit on the stoop with him, kiss his cheek so gently it’d turn up to his ears, and maybe finish the joint he’s smoking. You’d listen to him talk about D&D and when you talked about the books you liked he’d understand every word.

“Ah,” he smiled, “tell me fair maiden, what brings you to this hobbit hole?”

“Aren’t hobbit holes meant to be clean?” You teased, kicking an empty can of beer that had fallen out of the trash cans on the edge of Eddie’s sorry excuse of a lawn.

He felt his heart swell at the comment and suddenly he wished he could usher you inside and spend the whole rest of the afternoon talking about Tolkien with you. “You know your hobbits then.”

You opened the tote bag hanging off your shoulder and pulled the slightly worn copy of The Hobbit up far enough that Eddie could see it, pressing your lips together as if you were fighting off a smile but smiling anyway. “I was uh,” you dropped the book back into your bag and nervously shifted your weight as you stood there a few feet from him, wondering if he would think you were stupid if you told him, “I was thinking about you the other day.”

Eddie tried to keep whatever composure he was still clinging too, “well, I can’t blame you, there’s a lot to think about.”

You laughed and nodded as if you agreed with him, “I was wondering how many times you’ve read the hobbit and trying to decide if I was anywhere near as close.”

“At least ten,” he admitted, “I’ve lost count.”

You didn’t mention that you imagined him sitting there with you in your room, the two of you reading together. That you thought about how he’s jump up on the bed and perform every song that Tolkien had penned, shouting out the goblin song so loud he no doubt disturbed all the neighbors. “I have the movie…I mean, when I’m done rereading I’m gonna watch the movie again. We should-“

“Oh my god!” Lizzie shouted, “of course you’re over here!”

Eddie perked up at the comment, his mind racing at what she could’ve meant. Of course, the words replayed in his mind, you’re over here. When he looked up at you, you were looking at Lizzie and for the first time he realized he could see your soul mark, the grayish-black drawing etched on your skin on full display for him as you stood there apologizing for stopping to talk, it was the same as his and he realized then that he’d been holding a hand over his arm this whole time. The dull ache in his arm felt warm, like a soft fire had spread from his fingers all the way up his shoulder and down to his heart.

He should’ve told you right then, as you turned back to him and adjusted the strap of your bag. He should’ve grabbed you and told you that you were his soulmate and wasn’t that perfect because he was so in love with you anyway, but he just smiled awkwardly as you apologized for Lizzie.

“I was saying,” you were saying something and Eddie had to force himself to pay attention to anything other than the itch, “we should watch the hobbit together. You could come over and we could have pizza and stuff. Are you still reigning champion of Oreo stacks?”

Eddie was pretty sure he was going to explode. Or that lightening was going to come down from the sky and strike him where he stood. “No one’s taken the crown yet.” He replied.

Lizzie called your name again, having walked away and suddenly realized you weren’t beside her. You bit your bottom lip, looking apologetic and incredibly beautiful all at once. Blow off Lizzie and her dumb obsession with being tan, Eddie wanted to say, come inside and we’ll watch the hobbit now. He would watch whatever you wanted, name it and he’d get it.

“I’ll see you later Eddie,” you waved, his name like honey dripping from your lips. When you reached Lizzie she said something, looking back over her shoulder at him and he heard you giggle. It had his cheeks flushing to his ears and he quickly swatted at them, as if he could tamper down the feeling in his chest.

You’d been so close, just feet from him, just lingering there and he could see your tattoo. He knew, he’d known since the morning the two headed calf appeared on his arm that it was you. There was no one else it could be and how convenient because he’d been in love with you since you made him a cookies and cream birthday cake in third grade and made everyone at your party include him when they sang ‘Happy Birthday’. He swallowed the lump in his throat, thinking about it. If he told you, that you were his soulmate, that out of everyone in the entire universe you’d been saddled with Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson, would you be pissed? Would be fake nice about it? Tell him that was good and you didn’t mind while you just about died inside at the news? No, you couldn’t know. He wouldn’t tell you.

-December 1984-

You took another deep breath as you stood outside the door of Eddie Munson’s trailer. You hadn’t seen him since graduation in June but you’d spent more time with him on your mind than not. New York had never been your first choice for college but when you’d been accepted to NYU it was like all you could think about was some parallel world where you and Eddie graduated and moved to a shitty loft and he played gigs in the city with his band and you blew off classes to sleep in with him.

But you were alone in New York and Eddie was repeating senior year at Hawkins and you thought about him every day and collected a million stories that you hoped would impress him. And right now, two weeks before Christmas, you were standing outside his trailer because you had gained enough perspective to decide that (if you could get your brain to cooperate long enough) you were going to tell Eddie that you were his soulmate.

You still weren’t cool enough for him but he’d have to get used to that bit cause not seeing him every day made you feel like you were going to go insane.

He’d called out that he was coming five minutes ago when you first knocked on the door and it’d been followed with a series of loud curses and what sounded like furniture falling over. You thought about knocking again when the door swung open, cheap wood slamming against the wall of the trail and Eddie was staring at you looking very much like he’d just woken up.

“Hey, sorry I didn’t like...call first or something. I uh, I wasn’t sure if you’d want to but I brought snacks and I figured we never watched The Hobbit like we said we would.” You rattled off your reason for being at his house as quickly as possible as he started at you with wide eyes. You weren’t even sure he remembered that conversation.

“Come in,” He unlatched the screen door and pushed it open, letting you in passed him. He looked a little bewildered by your presence but didn’t question it. Afterall, who was he to argue when you willing were choosing to spend time with him.

Eddie’s tattoo was on full display in his short sleeve Black Sabbath shirt and you knew that when you took your jacket off, he would see yours too. But you had come over here with a plan and you were (somewhat) determined to see it through. You set down your tote bag on the coffee table, taking out the package of oreos, two jiffypops, The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings.

“Sorry to like, force you to hang out with me.” You apologized, turning back to look at Eddie as his hand dropped to his arm so he could itch at the tattoo.

A deep frown, something more akin to a comical pout, crossed Eddie’s face as he shook his head. “You could probably force me to do anything.” He said and then his eyes went wide, “I mean...uh, it’s fine. No problem.”

“I was thinking about you-”

“You were?”

“I uh...yeah,” you nodded, “I didn’t say anything before graduation but...” You felt like you were moving in slow motion, like maybe you should’ve played some kind of music you were taking so long to unzip your jacket. Eddie was still looking confused, licking his lips nervously and rubbing at his cheek as your coat came off. “Ta-da!” you held your arm out awkwardly so he could see the matching tattoo on your arm.

A slow smile spread across his face, cheeks turning red up to his ears as he stared down at the tattoo and then, suddenly, he jumped. You stumbled backward a little, startled. Eddie grabbed your arm though it was gentle, “I knew it!” He exclaimed, “I fucking knew it! I said to myself, Eddie, it’s gotta be them. The minute I saw it I knew.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Why didn’t I say anything? Why didn’t you say anything?” He replied.

You bit down on your bottom lip to stop from smiling at him, “I kinda thought you’d be disappointed...” you admitted. “I mean, you’re really fucking cool-”

He pressed his free hand to his heart, “ugh, flattery. The way to my heart.”

“I’m being serious Eddie. I knew it was you and I wanted to tell you so many times I just...I chickened out, I don’t know. I mean, I...tattoo or not, I love you. I really really love you and I went all the way to New York and the whole time I was there I just kept thinking, I wish Eddie was here. I wish we could share this. And I should’ve said something sooner I just...I thought you wouldn’t want to find out that it was me.” You replied.

“Are you kidding?” He asked, “like seriously, are you joking right now?” Eddie felt like he was being forced through a round of mental gymnastics, trying to decipher how anyone at all, let alone you, could think that he was the catch, all while figuring out what exactly it meant that you were so nervous. It wasn’t bad, he had already determined that there was nothing about this situation (the being soulmates, that was) that you seemed disappointed or upset about. “God!” He let go of you finally as he spun away, hands going to his hair as if he was trying to pull it out. “Oh my god! It’s just...I’ve just...god!”

“You said that.” You pointed out, tucking your arms in to cross infront of you. The moment you did, Eddie was back to grabbing your arm, his touch warm, the way it had been the morning of your sixteenth birthday. It almost felt like you had some kind of weight holding you down.

“Can I just...can I kiss you?” He asked, desperation evident in his voice. His heart was beating erratically, or at least he felt like it had to be. He was sure that his brain wasn’t processing any of this and half expected to wake up in some dream-state where Wayne told him that he was still that loser who hasn’t graduated.

The kiss was...every moment of anticipation since the day of your bowling party in third grade. It was every smile that you gave him in the hallway, the time in fifth grade when you stuck your tongue out at him after the teacher told you to be quiet in line, the day he found you in the library in seventh grade. It was cupcakes in lockers on birthdays and that anonymous Valentine's card that he was sure was just a malicious joke but that he kept in his nightstand just in case it was real. It was the time in sixth grade when you told him his taste in music was cool. It was every wave in the hallway or the lunch room, it was a hall pass to the bathroom just so he could see you in art class as he passed by.

The kiss felt like warmth spreading throughout your entire body. The kind of warmth that consumed you after you’d bundled up for a cold winter morning walk to school only to have Eddie slow his van to a halt and offer you a ride. The kind of warmth that settled on your cheeks when he told you he liked the poetry you read or that he’d used his allowance money to buy that book by Laura Gilpin. It was the kind of warmth you got from alcohol when your dormmate took you to CBGB’s for the first time and you pretended all night that it was Corroded Coffin on the stage.

His held your face in his hands, fingers calloused from the guitar brushing against your jaw and neck. You wanted to pull him closer but you weren’t sure that was physically possible. He was pressed against you already and your hands were twisting wrinkles into his Black Sabbath shirt. You’d never kissed anyone before and you weren’t entirely sure you were doing a great job but he wasn’t complaining.

When you finally felt yourself running out of air, you pulled away. It felt like a chore to detach yourself, even for a moment. “How’d you know?” You asked, Eddie’s comment from earlier popping into your head. He said he had known and he said it with such assuredness you hardly doubted him.

“It’s your favorite poem,” he replied, “how could I not know?”

But tonight he is alive and in the north

Field with his mother. It is a perfect

Summer evening: the moon rising over

The orchard, the wind in the grass. And

As he stares into the sky, there are

Twice as many stars as usual.

Taglist: @teelagurl558 @truewdw1 @kenzi-woycehoski @bookfrog242 @milkiane

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