When Death Says Hello.

The mourners stood in silent tribute as the coffin was laid to rest. Their heads were bowed as their eyes were fixed listlessly to the ground. The air was still, the ground was tense and faces sombre.

Deep in their hearts and at the darker edges of their minds, a completely different story was at play. What was the point of mourning a death? It was maudlin. Meant for the foolish and sentimental, and those who clung onto self-pity.

The crowd congregated, said a prayer. Then they headed home, each of them locking themselves in their private rooms, glass after glass of wine. Red. White. Red. They sat there, on their favourite worn out leather chair, maundering on and on about their own troubles - to anyone who pretended to give a damn.

No one is to be maltreated, after all. Death has that uncanny power.

And the next morning, life goes on.

A perceptible change has occured, only known to the wise, and the observer.



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Just felt like dabbling a little. I do miss writing...even though i should be channelling my energy to the tons of school work I have that's constanly piling up :( Oh well...it's friday night after all! heh