I guess I fell asleep sometime during the night because I woke up with a text on my cell from Andy's mom. It read, "We are having a funeral for Andy on Thursday. There will be no body buried because in the tragic accident last night, we lost his body. We invite everyone in this small little town to come because he was a kind soul to everyone. If you have anything of personal significance, towards your relationship with him, that you can part with, we would love to put that in the coffin." I was faced with the difficult decision: do I go, because I am the reason he is dead, the reason there is no body for his family to bury, or do I not go, because I am the reason he is dead, the reason there is no body for his family to bury? I decided I would go. It is the least I can do for these poor, grieving old people who have nothing to bury, no ashes, nothing for the gravestone to be on top of except an empty coffin full of meaningless possessions.
I spent the next few days refusing to get out of bed. Wallowing in the pool of self-pity I had created for myself. I did do one productive thing: I planned Mark's funeral. Even a slimly, little, good-for-nothing weasel like Mark needed a funeral for all the many people who did love him. Even if I was not one of those people. I decided I would host it on Saturday, a modest little gathering with only a few people, his closest friends and family.
ВИ ЧИТАЄТЕ
Her wedding sucked but continued to go downhill from there
Сучасна прозаA woman kills her fiance and then has to continue killing to cover it up and we end with a super surprising plot twist that no one sees coming. Almost exactly one year ago, I started this story and forgot about it. I was going through my Google Docs...
