It's my dad's birthday. He doesn't even know that I write. Oh, well. Coincidentally, it happens to be my oldest sister's birthday today, too. Yeah, she was born on is birthday. He likes to tell the story of how he had to ge home and open his presents on his own, because Mum was in the hospital. Lmao.

EDIT: Thanks to Janie, who pointed out my error-- Edward's birthday is the 20th, no the 2nd of June. My mistake, sorry. That's what I get for being so stupid. :)

Date: 16th Feb

Character: Edward

Stimulus: Memorial

He went back there. He wasn't sure why. Perhaps he was a masochist. This would surely only hurt him.

It had been years since he had come to Chicago. He had originally come annually, on his father's birthday, but that tradition had stopped in recent years. He wasn't exactly sure why.

He went, now.

The grave was carved out of stone. A hundred years ago, it had been beautifully intricate. Now ivy snaked through loops and curled with scrolls. The stone angels were barely recognisable, garbed in green leaves as they were. In a swift movement that would be too quick for a human to catch, he tore some of the vines away. It did not matter. They would grow back.

At human speed, his eyes lingered on the names. They were written in a script that befit his parents' high status, and honoured their memory.

Here lies,

Edward Masen Snr.
Born 16th February, 1866
Died 19th February, 1918

His wife, Elizabeth Rebecca Masen
Born 29th June, 1871
Died 27th February, 1918

And their son, Edward Anthony Masen
Born 20th June, 1901
Died 27th February, 1918

On the family tomb was the crest, and their motto. The words were too faded to read now.

Edward knelt beside the tomb, and he mourned what he had lost.