It ended this way. It had to. Anyone who was telling you the truth could not believe their ears but it was true. The language of generic cliches was out in the open, on the tongues of many people, rolling down to reach the drain where they belonged. The funeral was coming but most people were just idling their time away leaning against the wicker chairs. Some looked bored, their eyes looking devoid of any expression, except boredom. Or perhaps that was me misreading them, instead of focusing on paying tribute. I was always more interested in the living.
In the Beginning
It is nothing unusual, no typical solemnity, no horror like stories, just a fistful full of sand that you hear land on the coffin with a delicate thud. You grab the moisted piece of land with your manicured nails which leave the dirt you carry home. Dirt is also in the top of the shoes that you carry home also. It sticks to you and that memory never leaves. You recall only the wet stench of the freshly ground earth and the moribund resin in your heart.
Still heard as it goes between the beats, that silence is not worrying to any extent, it just spreads in the air, and suffocates him. As he breathes more silence occurs, fewer intervals occur, while the air hangs low over him, he breathes out the storm, inhales the peace that spreads together with silence but the two are soon gone and what remains is the shadow of a former human being that lies motionlessly. The clouds disperse and the light chill enters the room. People leave. Come and go. Open the window. Hear the chatting. ”…suffered no more”, ”…is the widow upstairs?” Under the table there is enough room to accomodate the children, two of them are hugging each other. Are you going to hold me, Tommy? The elder brother looks down at the sister’s uncertainty that always brings out a smile.
I Carried You
Yes, brother, hold me or carry me piggyback to the closest stream where I would love to play along, the old game we both love so much. Unsure he is going to smile? He certainly is. Right, you see that spark coming to life instantly and the whole face beam with a boisterous undertone. The little devil, he! Loved swimming in those muddy waters like a little embodiment of defiance, holding his breath under the water up to the last minisecond that separated him from losing consciousness. The dim shape that moved across the riverbanks, only to land safely on his both feet. The brother Tom.
That was rather a difficult birth, granny recalls, but he fully accepted his new environment. Those like him quickly adapt, quickly make friends within their outer zone. He was eagerly awaiting the new and exciting.
In the memoriam of Tom