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They are all wearing black

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They are all wearing black.

It's very depressing.

Why couldn't he have left instructions for his funeral; for them to all be dressed in bright rainbow colors instead?

This wasn't supposed to be a dismal, wretched kind of funeral.

No, in his mind, it was supposed to be a celebration of the life lived and the eternity that would follow in everlasting night, finally free of the shackles and pain filled prison that was life on earth.

His father stands, all dry eyes and stony expression.

The gathered crowd on the verdant grassy knoll turns toward him in anticipation; almost like they're expecting it now, at any moment.

'Soon', they think to themselves. 'Soon, he'll show some emotion. Soon, he'll actually prove that he did care about his son.'

But he doesn't.

He stares and stares and stares at that open casket.

He must believe it still has his son inside.

It doesn't.

His son is watching the proceedings from somewhere above, somewhere that he cannot reach, and the place his father will not be able to follow.

He knows the contents of his father's soul.

He will not be joining him at Peace.

Peace is exactly as it sounds; just as the word describes, it is thankless and wondrous and an absence of the kind of pain that used to wrap around his neck and choke the life out of him, just like it had done to him on that earth.

The pain had finally overwhelmed him.

He'd let go, succumbed to it. Drowned in it.

Reveled in it.

The light wasn't bright, but a beautiful diluted ray of sunshine devoid of all color—almost as if it were...grey.

Pale and effervescent, translucent. The conduit for a myriad of kaleidoscope colors to traverse through and paint the rest of the world in its beauty, but this...

this lack of color...

This was the real thing.

Perhaps he should've left instructions for them to all wear grey that day, in honor of his namesake.

It sounds ridiculous in his head.

'In honor of'.

Like he deserves any kind of honor.

At least in death, Grey Hartingrove understood his place in the world.

He understands it just fine, as his father approaches the podium to deliver an emotionless eulogy.

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