The Town Of Indifference...

Oh! That night...the night it stormed, when the birch woods snapped and fell in the deep of Jona's Brook coursing water, black as blood, as if the soil beneath the ripple had purged in menstruation from some trauma deep within. And rapidly, the waters rose, by itself, no rain in sight, 'till it approached a nascent merge divided by a fork- a manmade split of land dug in eighteen sixty two, by soldiers donning gray and that housed a small family long asleep now beneath its soil, where their home stood quietly, on a healthy lot of land, between two brooks, this house built on s plot of land- between two tranquil streams, that rode white and feral in the eye of an August storm, two streams that converged at a fork, that became Jonas Brook, Now, the house was mainly built of pine, with a pinch of oak...and strangeness, as surrounding townsfolk swore Then, one starless night in May, of year, Eighteen Ninety two this family, all of three were slain while in their rooms. No one knew who could have done it, No one took the time to care; they were just an unknown family who reclused amongst themselves, and because so, neighbors whispered unkind thoughts amongst themselves; assumptive notions amongst themselves, vulgar tongued scenarios... amongst themselves. And because so, over time and talk they drew fear amongst themselves. And, thus, when they heard the news, instead of rue or sorrow, they smiled amongst themselves, breathed fresh air among themselves, Three days and nights of waking quarters placed upon six eyes, while one-hundred pounds of dry ice from Kasman's Country Store kept each of the three bodies from riga's hideous sight as well as its dreadful stench. On Day four there was a service held at the funeral parlor, to allow for words be said by family, or any mourners who felt compelled to do so. There were no words spoken, for mourners, there were none, the family was dead, and after the echo of a clearing throat, a Minister addressed a group of chairs, each and one of them empty...ALL! He spoke of all he'd researched an hour before arriving. Six scores of years have passed and to this day, nobody knows the who's and why's about the slaying on Jona's Brook, and no one ever will, because no one really cared. And, how do I know this? Stop, and consider this: Everybody knows the name of the Brook, but what was the name of the family? Exactly! Frank James Ryan Jr/FjR All Rights Reserved MMXV