Sunday, June 11, 2006

paying his last respects

It was raining hard again. He remembered the last time it was raining this hard, but decided not to delve into those memories. He always hated things like that - recollections, pictures, 'trips down memory lane'.. didn't know why though.

Well, actually he did. Because he just didn't like memories. Even at his age, he had come to despise so much. He blamed television and the news in general for his disillusionment

"Just like every other cynic" he thought dully.

But not really.. he knew it was a lot more than that. He knew it was a lot deeper. Vaguely, he wondered if every other cynic knew the same.

The droplets came pelting down like a thousand tiny bullets, drenching the sombre gathering. It was an unusal turn up at the graveyard. The sleep of the dead was disturbed though not by the surprising number of black-adorned men and women, standing in the pouring rain with their umbrellas - braving the weather.. no, the distubance was more of a buzz. They were excited because another was joining, being put into the earth. A young one at that - just 24! Atleast he thought they were waiting for the dead one - for his friend, for his worst enemy, for the person he begrudgingly grew up with, for the person he thought he'd die with.

Under the heavy, cloudy sky - ignoring all those around him... all these people that came to say good-bye to their 'beloved' - he knelt by the grave. He was dimly aware of R reading out the eulogy but ignored it - gazing intently on the Dead One's face. Still. Peaceful. Peaceful? You could never tell with Him - the bastard was a scorpio. Looks usually were decieving with him. Yet there he lay in His black suit, not breathing. And he just kept staring at His face for a while - disconnected, flooded with emotion - anger, hatred, admiration, even a little envy.

"..and he was handsome - everyone called him that.. even the kids.."

"No you weren't, you ugly bastard. You were ugly. Even on the inside.. inside you were ugly like me." he said with a choked whisper, wondering if the Dead One could hear him.

"..a lively person that went around making freinds, making everyone happy.."

"Happy? you don't even know how much grief you have caused. You and I can't even begin to measure how many people we have made miserable over the course of your fuck-up of a life." leaning in closer, bringing his lips to the corpse's ears.

The rain came down even harder, and he was completely soaked - dripping wet - yet he didn't feel it. Didn't feel wet at all, didn't even feel those drops splashing rudely against him.

"..a great brother, a wonderful son, the perfect friend - always understanding, always supportive.."

"Thats rich.. supportive? Understanding? You selfish little shit - if only these people knew you like I did. But now they never will get to.. thank god for that! Thank him personally for me."

The women sobbed respectfully, the men shuffled their feet - everyone now hoping R would just finish so they could get the fucking hell out of the rain. Finally R did - and with a sigh, scooped up a handful of the freshly dug mud and tossed it onto the coffin. This is when he realised it was finally happening. Looking up at R for a second - registering the pained, broken look in the man's eyes he turned back to the grave.. the lid shut now, Dead One's face completely shut from the world.

He remained at the graveside as more and more people tossed their handful of dirt onto the filling-up grave - some stepping right through him as they shuffled to stand by the graveside - others just flinging the rich earth right through him.. his eyes fixed on the spot where His face was moments ago. And thus He was buried, the darkness in the grave increasing with each handful, in an increasingly big mound of dirt and sand and rubbish.. a befitting destiny for you, he thought. And the rest of us.

Long after everyone else had left he just sat there alone, staring at the gravestone. Rising, he dusted himself off, mumbling something about people's audacity to shovel dirt right through him - fuck, didn't they think they'd fuck-up my suit? Assholes.

Straightening, he spit loudly onto the fresh grave - there.. paid you my last respects, you fuck. He looked up at the sky wiping his chin, and was pretty sure in all 24 years of his life he had never seen a sky so dark. Shaking his head, he wandered aimlessly out of the graveyard leaving Himself buried alone - the darkness increasing with each step he took just like my grave did.

4 comments:

  1. Fuck plausibility - this is a work of fiction.

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  2. Anonymous4:05 PM

    your best one yet!

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  3. Anonymous5:45 PM

    quite amazing i must say...i love the concept of the person talking about himself from the grave

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  4. They were excited because another was joining, being put into the earth. brrr !!! the earth was like wishpering....

    So is there the Funerals of Mr F ? very often nice and attractive people in public are real assholes or tyrans into private.... the famous hidden face or dark side mmmh ? one book on this subject u would like is "The monk" by Antonin Arthaud (a remake of an old book from the 12th century I guess - not sure)....

    I like the ambiant of ure text and the cure u make choosing vocabulary... I will check if the next are more optimistic... less hatred...

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