Ficly

My View of The Funeral

This was probably the smallest funeral I’ve been to. We crossed the pool deck and I waited for Jojo to pull our her mockingly bright rainbow umbrella out of the house in order for us to not get completely soaked.

We made our way outside, and I couldn’t help but frown at the mud that clung to my feet. Shannon complained at the excuse for a hole she made with her strange contraption of a shovel which she later informed me was a post digger. My sister placed the recently deceased that had been wrapped into a napkin and zipped into a sandwich bag into the shallow hole that was guarded from the descending rain by Jojo’s gigantic umbrella which I was then grateful for.

“You want to say any last words?” I asked Shannon.

She mumbled as she filled the whole with dirt, using her bare foot, “He was a good mouse.”

I made my way back inside with the rest of my sad friends, singing a depressing melody under my breath. And I waited for the melancholy atmosphere to dissapate as I began playing slow music on the computer.

This story has no comments.