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Rated: E · Short Story · Ghost · #709457
Ted stops by to pay tribute.

Ted stood staring at the stone. It stood 6 feet high - man made.

'Where is my name,' he thought. It had to be on there somewhere.

'Oh,' he gasped. 'There 's Hank.' Hank had been a good friend for many years. 'I didn't expect his name to be there. Where is he anyways? Haven't seen him for quite a long time now.' Ted had been talking to himself recently - no one else to talk to actually.

'And here is Tony. He was quite a card. Always found something to laugh about.'

Ted read through all the names on the stone wondering about this one and that.

Finally he saw his name. 'TED.' Nothing different than the rest. Just severely chiseled in cold gray stone. But even so - it meant a lot to him. He ran his fingers over the indentations that were his name. He had made it finally. He was a hero.

He recalled the Great Fire in the Town City Hall and the part he had played rescuing all those people - working hard along side his friends. Tony. Hank. And these others. Dedicated firemen - the lot of them.

Ted looked at his watch - time to go or he would be late for the first anniversary of the Great Fire. Maybe he would see his friends there - Tony, Hank, the others.

He gave one last look over all the names again and then to the words overshadowing all the names:

'This is in memory
of all those brave firemen
who lost their lives
in the Great Fire of 1952.'

Ted sighed as he faded away.

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