Vanitas

Vanitas

“Vanitas Vanitatum.” She watched the iron letters across the entranceway as she walked underneath, Bible clutched in hand. The gravestones stood silent and weathered, as if enforcing the message given to visitors. She wandered among the stones, trying to read those that still bore their letters, remembering all those forgotten people. The waxing moon stood high in the sky and provided just enough light for her to see by. It wouldn’t be long before she joined these good folk and then she too would be forgotten by the world. Return to the earth, return to dust. Her grip around the bible tightened, her eyes closed, praying hard. Fear gripped her. She didn’t want to go. She wanted to be remembered. She wanted to be eternal.