Kathryn L Wrote

The November wind moaned, swayed, indeed, then quietly retreated before the slow procession. Only the creaking of wagon wheels broke the silence. Muffled steps mechanically followed each other. Martinez days was riveted to the tailgate of the wagon, where the top of the pine coffin rose and fell with the ruts of the road. Softly the wind began gathering strength, until its gusts tore at the slender figure walking alone who refuse to bend before the savage lashing of the storm. No code protected the slim white arms hanging loosely; no shawl cover the long brown tresses blown back and forth."Mr. Fritz, shouldn't we make Martin aware something warm? Can you maker – –" Abe's voice pleaded with the older man. William silently shook his head."Don't you see, Abe, she has to do this. To admit that she was feeling the cold, to admit that she could be aware of things now when her mother is – – well, Marta has to work her grief out through self punishment. I know how she feels." His gray head bent to the wind, and he continued walking. Despair filled Abe's soul. Why was her grief so overwhelming? Why did she react so? He did not understand her. Quickening his pace, he soon reached her side. She held her chin high, a look of determination such as he had never seen before on her face. The girl seemed aware of nothing save the wagon ahead."Marta, please let me walk with you. Can I get you my coat?"She shook her head slightly, then acted as if he were not there.… (altro)