While he sat reading through her journal, flames licked his eyes.

Outside a group stood round
Pointing at the cart
Gawking at the cart
Whispering about the one exposed eye.

Some spoke of usong their torches to burn the cart, the face, to burn the body to the ground.

He rushed through the door.
He screamed a sxream he couldn’t hear.
Feet touching ground he didn’t feel.

He waved the book of her words.

“Tell the family.”

“Proper burial”

Somewhere through the crowd he heard, “but she is just a whore.”