A Decent Funeral (2004) P.S. Gifford Jack slowly shook his head with disgust; he always hated crying at funerals. Yet as the casket lowered into its final resting place the lament intensified from a gentle sniffle to a full fledged bellowing. ‘Bloody emotional fool!’ Jack considered to himself maintaining his perfectly stoic demeanor. The final prayer is completed. “Ashes to ashes dust to dust…” Jack always liked that bit, and his wife would be appreciative that the service was so traditional. Gradually the soil is returned, shovelful by shovelful, to the foreboding cavity in the ground. The coffin is half covered by the dirt, as the sun begins to set in the autumn sky. Jack closes his eyes, and pictures his wife’s angelic face, and holds that image in his mind’s eye and sighs. Just then a phone ringing broke the spell. “Bloody inconsiderate,” Jack muttered out loud, “who on earth would bloody call me a time like this?” Jack ignored it- however the ring persists. Sighing in defeat he put down his old battered shovel, next to the bible he just quoted from. Straightening his tie he slowly made his way out of his overgrown back yard and into his kitchen to answer it. “Hello?” he snapped into the receiver. His wife stopped crying, and tried to speak calmly. “Jack, I am sorry I lied to you. I promise I will not spend as much on designer shoes or purses again. Now please let me out of this bloody home made coffin at once- and we will say no more on the matter!”
Posted on: Thu, 06 Nov 2014 23:15:34 +0000
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