This week’s photo prompt is provided by, Pixabay
At Cousin Paul’s memorial, Aunt Colleen turned her chair so that it was in a corner facing the wall. Everyone approached her and kissed her and hugged her, but she was as dead to the world as Paul.
I sat on the other side of the parlor thinking about Paul. Wondering about the cruelty of the gods that be who would allow college graduation one day and death the next.
The room was electrified with anger and grief. Cousin Clare read aloud from The Little Prince. Some of us drank brandy and smoked too many cigarettes. Not much made sense that afternoon.
Later, we all rode our bikes out to the lake. Aunt Colleen tossed Paul’s helmet into the water and we formed a circle gently round her.