funeral

alleytree

Dark and dusty, I couldn’t ignore the lazy flies that slowly circled the pungent flowers beside the hard pew that I sat on. Their buzzing rang in my ears, louder than the pastor who talked about dark winters and bleak springs. There was nothing in the future that would even resemble happiness, even I could feel that above the numbing pull of my dad’s muscle relaxants that I had taken not too long ago. I hadn’t left my bed in a week, hadn’t eaten more than a cup of soup in that same amount of time. Muted, the church reminded me of my living room, how the light struggled to get through the dark dusty windows. I wanted to sneeze, get up and run. My legs buzzed with sleep and weakly I felt like I would remain in the church forever.

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