Post by theodore royce nott on Aug 3, 2011 22:30:52 GMT -5
No, Theodore didn’t have a friend or family member whose name was craved into one of the many gravestones out in the memorial. And no, Theodore didn’t much care about the supposed sacrifice that these fallen heroes had made. But he wasn’t out there with any intentions of defiling the sight either. Theo liked to come out there and simply roam the graves, reading what surviving loved ones had written to commemorate a particular person’s death. Remembering the past wasn’t something to shy away from, at least that was the way that Theodore viewed it, but could strengthen one’s resolution for the present… and future. It was funny, in a non-humorous sort of way that those on the opposing side didn’t have such a place as the one that he currently stood in. Was the sacrifice that many of them made any less important? Did their deaths mean less than the deaths of the people buried six feet under here? In war there was always two different sides and who was to declare that one was more right, or just than the other? His thoughts reeled, debating the validity of right and wrong, too caught up to notice the faint sound of footsteps approaching.