Sean King

Rietje Becker

Jack Howell

English

I was on my way to the shop when I first heard a high, eerie, beautiful sound. At first I thought it was a bird, then an instrument. As the sound developed into a tune, I realized it was a voice. I was frozen in my tracks on the sidewalk. I couldn’t do anything but listen.

The voice was enchanting. Slight modulations, high and light. I listened carefully to see if I could understand the words of the song. “Worry not, worry not, for angels have got your tongue.” I walked closer. It was then I realized the singer was crying.

A break in the song allowed me a moment to fully take in my surroundings. A mortuary, not unlike the

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