If

Little Bird

Amongst the somber crowd a lone girl stood up suddenly. Making her way out of the aisle, she softly stepped toward the coffin. The closer she got, the more her hands shook, the more her eyes watered, the more the crowd wondered. Peering in the dark bed, a soft smile touched her face, recalling all the memories she had made with the corpse, who wasn't a corpse then. No, he was very much alive in her memories. It was hard for her to understand that there would be no more. No more adventures. No more laughter. No more anything. Tearing her eyes from the ashen face, she tapped her way toward the table adjacent the cold marble box. Reaching in her satchel, she removed a stack of navy origami paper. With the crowd still puzzled, she began to fold. Rip. Start again. Mistake. Start again. Wrong fold. Start. Again. With tears now flowing down her face, and hands violently trembling, she started again. And again. The puzzles crowd began to feel pity for the girl, yet none stood to comfort. But then, from the back of the chapel, walked a young man. He understood the girl, as he was a friend, and he too had lost a father. Ignoring the curious eyes of the sympathetic audience, he stopped down to gather the ruined paper, tossed aside by the determined child. When finished, he crept to her side. Silent yet violent sobs shook her body, yet unlike the rest of the people in the room, he did not feel pity toward her. Only love. Slipping a hand in hers, he used his other to lift her chin, willing her eyes to meet his. Leaning forward, he kissed her salty cheeks and whispered calming words to her. As her breathing slowed and her hands grew steady, and to the surprise of everyone, a small escaped her. Finally meeting the eyes of her friend, she smiled softy and mouthed a 'thank you'. He took no time in returning it. Both pairs of eyes simultaneously looked down at the last piece of untouched paper. Moving his hands to grasp hers, he laid them down flat on the paper. With a final squeeze, she freed her hands and began to fold. A few moments later, she had finished her project. And laying in her palms proudly, was a little blue origami bird. Tiptoeing back to the coffin, she carefully set the small bird on the hand of her late father. Grasping the hand of her friend, she lifted her head up. Upon noticing this, the crowd, who was watching curiously thus far, began to look up, one by one. While everyone else saw only a ceiling dotted with cob webs, she was looking toward Heaven, smiling at the face of her father, that somehow she could see so clearly. And with one last smile and a whispered goodbye, she turned at last toward the crowd. But instead of timidly tiptoeing to her seat, she walked with firm steps down the chapel aisle with the hand of the kind boy still in hers. Her heart now filled with newfound confidence and joy, she slammed the large doors open and raced down the steps, and started to laugh. As the whispering crowd filed out the old doors, a stranger stared in the direction of the youths. While his hands played with the little bird, he sauntered off. And then, disappeared.

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Ta-da. Another masterpiece. (Kidding)