Visiting Father

"Identification please," said the short stout grumbling man, leaning over his desk.

"I didn't know I needed my identification," tears began to spill like a waterfall as the hostile monster glared over me, quickening the rate of my usually steady heart beat.

"Reveal your purpose boy," his cold dark eyes causing me to shudder.

"My father,” I stuttered, "he was-he was in the fire-"

"I'll just borrow your horoscope then," he remitted, allowing the gate to hover, permitting my presence into the cold cemetery. "You're quite the project aren't you?" He laughed just as everyone did drawing light to my negligent natal chart. The concentration of water elements left me cosmically and comically imbalanced.

My breath started to expand as my love for the angry old troll softened. My frown learned to reverse into a smile, as I nudged my horse forward with the tap of my heel.

"Thank you sir, it was nice to meet you," I said, nodding my head.

"Sorry for your loss," he grumbled in apology.

Before I could consider a response, the gate pressed firmly behind me, his glower in my past, the stench of death to my front. I struggled a swallow as the stones symbolizing life long gone painted a nauseating aroma of nostalgic noises silently stirring before me.

"I'm here father," I whispered to the wind, willing me forward, willing me strength I hadn't the courage to muster on my own. "I'm here."