In death not as in life

The automatic air freshener squirted a floral fragrance into the overly warm room.
“Here she is”. the undertaker said. “I will leave you for a while”.
I nodded. I watched him gracefully exit the room his face etched in sympathy.This pain was familiar to him.He had done this so many times before. I hadnt.
I turned my attention to the coffin.I ran my fingers over the buffed wood. I felt the cold of the ornate brass handles. It was strange. You were such a big woman in life,animated,vivacious,sparkling. In death you were tiny. Shrouded in white satin,hands crossed over your chest.
Your face was so smooth. you looked thirty years younger. If I’m honest though this waxwork did not represent you. I stroked your white hair,once so thick but ravaged by the treatment you had been having.I leaned in close, kissed your marble forehead, “Goodbye” was all I said.

View this story's 5 comments.