everything i can remember 1

An entirely white stone room. Light slightly filtering through suspended dust from a back door. An impossibly small window projecting sunlight into a lifeless slated tomb, ethereal and open, not morbid, a blank space. Black foldable chairs, about 20. All facing a casket with flowers laid overtop. You, running around, playing, weaving through the chairs, not understanding what’s going on. Exasperation, blood-curdling screams, pierced with your aunt’s deepest pit of sadness. Remorse. The bewilderment etched into you still. This lives in you. Your aunts dramatic, clenching their necklaces and covering their gaping mouths. Showy funeral attire, lace, hats, veils. Not understanding the reactions, but suddenly understanding mortality amidst running through the aisles, still confused what happened, trying to see in people’s faces the answer. Connecticut. 1992.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s