Dearly Missed

                                      Dearly Missed



The room was plain, decorated in burgundy and cream,
except
for the coffin in its centre
Her name appeared on a plaque
etched in gold
Was that supposed to be comforting?



Geraldine Hughes.
1950 - 2006.
Rest in Peace.
That plaque was nothing short of an insult
A worn out line everyone uses when there is nothing to be said.
Naomi tentatively ran her fingers over the cross.



Shadows played on their faces.
No one spoke,
Bitter glances exchanged, it was time to move the coffin to the church.
Geraldine smiled broadly in the picture that had been chosen to rest on top of the coffin during the mass next day.



A hand fell on her shoulder.



'At least she didn't suffer', her aunt whispered.
Locking eyes with the elderly woman, Naomi responded the only way she could...
'Do not speak to me', she hissed lowly, so that she would not draw attention.
The gong of the church bell meant that time had ended.



Stiffly walking,
Blurry sight,
Footfalls sounded like thunder on the marble floor of the church.
Mumbled prayers, what did those words mean anyway?
She cursed herself as the box brought treacherous tears back.
Too furious to cry



Natural causes. Everyone knew the truth.



Soft rains soothed the tarmacadam
Sorry for your loss.
Priest waffling on about hope in the face of it all.
She felt ill, knotting her fingers together.
The tang of incense drifted to the congregation
Naomis' eyes stared dully at the stained glass Mary, pure and blue



That was Geraldines' favourite colour.
That was Geraldines' colour when they found her.