silent prayer.

Two pairs of nervous soles pounded the hard street taking urgent steps.

The slight mist which had descended down clouded their vision but the 
determined couple did not lose sight of their endeavour.

"Hope we are not late", Katie said with words barely escaping her lips,
the chill in the air aggravating her arthritis. 

"I have the candles and the wreath ", and Malcolm tightened his grip of their

intertwined fingers.

The tears rolled down her cheeks and the illumination of the bulb added to her misery.

The news of over a hundred  little innocent souls snatched away by insane act of terrorism re-winded the reels of memory and brought forth the picture of their only son Ryan, who a decade ago completed their family.

                                       The smallest coffins are the heaviest to bear.

                                             They had buried Ryan in their hearts.

This 140-words Micro Fiction is shared with Succinctly Yours Week 195.
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