Daddy used to make me listen to the speech. I’d pretend to be bored but I always got goosebumps when he’d exclaim “to mingle my blood further with the blood of my children, and with the blood of millions in this slave country.”
It reminded me I’m not just any Brown. His blood runs in me too.
Daddy always told me: “You’ve got a destiny.”
Daddy also used to say he heard the cries of the dead in the whistle. I never believed him. But I swear as his ashes caught in the breeze, I heard them. Crying. Destiny calling.
Harpers Ferry Photo is the property of Dawn M. Miller. Provided courtesy of Rochelle at Friday Fictioners.
I love to be able to mix two of my favorite things: history and a bit of flash fiction (100 words exactly). So special thanks Rochelle and Dawn!