'Goodbyes'

Wilshire, England

'Goodbyes'

It was overcast the cold windy morning of the funeral as the line of black dressed individuals with their black umbrellas stood about the Rosethorne cemetery. The throng of people were crowded in like rats all wishing to partake in the painful ceremony of saying goodbye one last time as the soft rain misted over them, the very country offering it's own tears for the departed.

In the front of the grieving crowd was a roped off section with seven coffins slowly being lowered one by one into the care of the earth. Mother, father, sisters, and friends; all unfortunate to be where they were when the fire came now slept with the angels.

Before them stood one person, without an umbrella, dressed in black as well. The local pasture stood beside the grief stricken girl, a hand over her shoulder as he read the last rights for the family Rosethorne; the rainy mist washing over them in some unspoken tradition while hiding the young girl's tears in their wet caresses. The wind sang like a dirge to announce the final departure of the once living all through the funeral; like the rain, it never relented.

To be continued...