Title: Goodbyes
Date: January 7th, 2025
Author: Z. E. Wayland
License: CC0; To the extent possible under law, Z. E. Wayland has waived all copyright and related or neighboring rights to this work.
That little funeral sure was the bee’s knee’s, wasn’t it? Her body wasn’t brought to the park, but she wasn’t going to be buried under the playground. You came anyways. Lucky you. Didn’t have to see her body. Crushed, crashed right ah she puled out in front of the high school. Nobody saw it coming. You even laughed when they called you, told you she died.
Absolutely impossible, you thought. After all, being a teenager came packaged with the feeling of immortality. You didn’t feel it here. You didn’t feel it the day you arrived and realized that her desk would be empty forever. Lucky you. You became the best trumpet player in the band. Sure showed those skills when you lined up with your other band members.
The dirge didn’t fit the tone. It was a sad pop song from a movie. And she hated this song, but none of you have any time to practice something new. You al knew that and when the song ended, laughed about it. Not too loudly of course. Not while you were exchanging your trumpet for candles as the afternoon turned dark.
You packed together with the others. Eyes primed to catch a glimpse of her picture lit by candlelight. It wasn’t the only thing that got lit. A brief flash of light ignites, followed by a horrible smell, all ignored as you politely listened to the eulogy as it crawls on. Only when it was finished, when people started making their way home did you hear panicking about the burnt tips of hair.
All the way home, you laughed about it. A half-mile walk to laugh about it because you didn’t tell your parents when to pick you up. Didn’t even tell them you were being dropped off at a funeral. But, that’s all right. You’ll get better with practice. Funerals are for the living, for you to bury your sorrow and withdraw joy.