The story so far:
42: I sleep a little & then wake on the tiled floor with a guilty start. Who am I to sleep – or to eat or even to breathe – when she is dead?
43: Three days later, it’s her funeral and it’s one of those god-awful affairs, where everyone decides to ‘celebrate’ the dead one’s life.
44: They’re all so damn upbeat and smiling because, they say, “that’s what she would have wanted.”
45: Would she bollocks, she would have wanted us bawling our bloody eyes out & tearing at our clothes. & anyway, she would have wanted us sad.
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.