The Misunderstood ManHe stood there, silently looking at the cold gravestones and wilted flowers that their loved ones left for them. A ghostly wind gently caressed his soft dark hair as he sighed. Eyes as grey as storm clouds glanced from side to side, reading the names. Walking without making a single sound, only his eerie presence can be sensed by those who still breathed. Lightly, he rested his hand on one of the smooth stones, tracing some of the letters with the tips of his fingers.The Misunderstood Man2 days ago in Short Stories More Like This
Everyone lying here had met him, though his sad expression shows that he wished they hadn't. His face is the definition of depression. Years upon thousands of years have taken away any ability to smile. Not that he would have any reason to smile anyway. No more does he cry, like he used to. He can't now. All of his tears have drained away. What's left is only someone who looks as if he's on the verge of tears.
Loneliness. Loneliness is all he has ever felt. Only people, whose time is at an end, have ever seen his image. S