"Martyr..."
Colin stood before the black marble tombstone, his eyes squinted slightly, his mind filled with an indescribable emptiness.
His impressions of his father weren't deep. No, it would be more accurate to say, besides a few photos, he had almost no memory of him, and even memories of his mother had become very vague.
Sometimes, even when he tried to remember, he couldn't quite recall their faces.
After quietly observing for a while, Colin flicked his thumb, prying off the beer cap with his fingernail, and poured it in front of the grave.
At this moment, just like the times he had come before to sweep the tomb, he didn't know what to say.
Every time he came here, he would just stand for a moment and pour out a bottle of beer before leaving straight away.
However, this time, after he had poured out the beer from the large green bottle,
Colin slowly crouched down, sitting cross-legged in front of the grave, suddenly feeling a desire to say something.
