If you just know how to turn, you can get there from anywhere. It’s a little slump to your left while turning slightly to the right and letting one tear roll down your cheek. Whisper a name and suddenly you’re there- the place where shrines go when they turn to dust. Where they celebrate their lives all which started with the departure of another. The memories they kept alive have all faded away but the shrines remain. The forever reminder- “We lived- We loved- We were here!”

The Shrine Tree by Marcus Inkpen and Sharni Azalee.