Nameless | A 100 Word Story

#143 Title, goes here

The old man sat in the church cemetery every single day clutching a bunch of lilies in one hand and his hat in the other. His hair balding on top but the wisps of auburn, a nod to his younger years.

The bench he occupied faced several gravestones but it was one in particular he visited. Large rectangle. Same as the rest. But upon further inspection, what made it different from the others was its lack of a name. 

Only he knew who was buried there and as long as he lived he vowed to keep watch and never forget.

In keeping with the theme for the rest of September, check out the publication whose name I used for the story you just read. And if you like their writing, give them a Subscribe to let them know!

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Stories and more stories! Mainly flash fiction, Harold and Sallie stories, some personal essays and updates about my writing and life in general.

By Kim H.

Special thanks to for being a part of the Substack Fiction Community and now a part of my 100 Word Story journey.