Funeral
It was a grey, stuffy spring day today. One of those days where the air feels like a thick brick wall made of a million pollen particles, reflecting the heat of a thousand suns. One of those days where breathing is a mission, and getting out of bed is a tremendous achievement. The light rain splattered silently across the wall of heat and pollen, making it even more unbearable.
As soon as I managed to gather all my strength to pull myself out of bed, I looked out of the window, only to see a small group of people starting to congregate across the street from us. Some were holding flowers, all were wearing masks. This better not be a party I said grumpily, as I scratched my eyes trying to force them awake.
I was immediately proven wrong by the low, yet distinct, sound of a women wailing. A shiny black hearse carrying an even more shiny white coffin pulled up slowly. The wailing got louder and a photographer appeared out of nowhere, 'click-click', 'click-click'. The photographer started taking pictures as a man dressed in a black suit, with a top hat in his hand, stepped out of the hearse. He opened the boot, and a woman, all in black, flung herself at the coffin wailing loudly, hitting her chest, and crying her heart out. The congregated men and women stood on both sides of the street withholding social distancing while mourning their friend. Wailing... and crying... loudly.
My partner and I stood by the window watching the chilling funeral procession with our hands entwined, tears running silently down our cheeks.
The brick wall of heat and pollen smiled menacingly and said, have a lovely day!
As soon as I managed to gather all my strength to pull myself out of bed, I looked out of the window, only to see a small group of people starting to congregate across the street from us. Some were holding flowers, all were wearing masks. This better not be a party I said grumpily, as I scratched my eyes trying to force them awake.
I was immediately proven wrong by the low, yet distinct, sound of a women wailing. A shiny black hearse carrying an even more shiny white coffin pulled up slowly. The wailing got louder and a photographer appeared out of nowhere, 'click-click', 'click-click'. The photographer started taking pictures as a man dressed in a black suit, with a top hat in his hand, stepped out of the hearse. He opened the boot, and a woman, all in black, flung herself at the coffin wailing loudly, hitting her chest, and crying her heart out. The congregated men and women stood on both sides of the street withholding social distancing while mourning their friend. Wailing... and crying... loudly.
My partner and I stood by the window watching the chilling funeral procession with our hands entwined, tears running silently down our cheeks.
The brick wall of heat and pollen smiled menacingly and said, have a lovely day!
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