accepting, brother, canyon, death, flash fiction, funeral, good read, loss, mining, siblings, sister, story
Chris always said that he’d be buried in Brimstone Canyon. Truth be told, I always thought it would have been a lot sooner.
I parked my car several hundred feet from the site and began to walk. The path to the burial plot was long, winding, and made of dirt that cut through the tall grass. Rolling hills flanked either side of the unspoiled terrain. The canyon was named for the mining that was once done here. They pulled a lot of metal and minerals out of the earth, and they had a tendency to react with flames if dropped together. Most of the time, the utmost caution was used. But deadlines and quotas sometimes called for corners to be cut. Continue reading