Atlantic

This Story is inspired by the music of Keane's "Under The Iron Sea"
and Band of Horses' "Everything All The Time". It is not fanfiction. Some band
member's names are used because I can never think of good names.

Atlantic

Kyle Katran

One

The Funeral

         Ben Chaplin stood in black garb, an umbrella held in his hand. It silently shakes in the cool St. Augustine spring air. Next to him stood other shivering people, some weeping and dabbing their tears with a cloth; mixing with the rain that silently ran down their faces. From above the gathering of black circled outward from a rectangular hole in the ground. The sound of rain hitting the umbrellas echoed throughout the silent graveyard. A soft mist hung over the grass.
         Ben felt a hand on his shoulder, and he turned.
         “I’m sorry,” his friend, Nicole said. She was dressed like everyone else, but to Ben, she looked different.
         “Oh, thanks...” He never really knew what to say to her. His palms were wet, but not from the rain, and he wiped them on his pant leg.
         “I know it must be hard but...” her voice trailed off.
         Ben looked into her brown eyes, She had her hair pushed back, her round face was filled with compassion. The two stood awkwadly until there was a rustling behind her. Pushing through the crowd, Nicole’s father grabbed her arm gently.
         “Nicole, come with your mother and I,” he tried to pull her away, brushing rain out of his beard and avoiding Ben’s eyes.
         “Again, I’m sorry, call me if you need to talk.” She faintly smiled as she was led through the black mass of people, and was soon out of sight.
         She was gone before Ben could say anything else. He didn’t really know what to say, and it was apparent she didn’t either. Surrounded by some people he knew, some he didn’t, he wasn’t prepared to say what was in his heart at the moment.
         The priest began to speak.