24 Year -Old Aspen Williams is a worldwide best selling artist who has always been upbeat in the busy city life of New York. She did visit her family in Brighton every Christmas but in her life, it was more about her, her boyfriend Riff and her best...
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~ωωω~
November 26th
The sky was in a dull shade of blue, covered in clouds lined with grey, which pretty much matched the atmosphere amongst us.
The meeting with Chris Woods had ended well, we had decided on December the 21st as the exhibition date. Chris was initially hoping to present her latest work with mine and I agreed.
However, even though this is a great opportunity in itself and the fact that it could help raise money needed to save the gallery, it may not be enough to save the gallery. And the thought was really worrying.
I smoothened my black skirt, shoved the piece of paper into my pocket and grabbed my chain link leather handbag before walking out of the room.
"Ready?" Zara pushes herself off the wall next to my door as soon as I walk out.
No.
"As ready as I'll ever be," I said, trying to hide the shaking of my voice.
"You can do this," Zara encouraged, linking arms with me before pulling me along down the stairs.
I simply nodded and bit my lip. I slipped my hand into the tiny pocket of my dress to make sure the piece of paper was there.
My heart was thumping rapidly in my chest and millions of emotions were running through me. I didn't know what to think or feel.
Today was the day we say our official goodbyes to Grandpa.
We would be first doing the speeches and eulogies in the house and then head over to the Green Wood Cemetery to, well, say goodbye.
Just thinking of it made me feel sick. I didn't want Grandpa to be gone. I don't want him to be gone. I want him here being his old weird self. I don't want his eyes closed, his bluish grey eyes not looking at nature, the outdoors that he loved so much.
Just as we reached the bottom of the staircase, Grandma walks over, dressed in a simple black dress that had stylish folds and a black suit jacket.
"Here," she said, handing me a creme coloured envelope.
"Read it after the funeral alright dear?" she spoke in a gentle tone before walking out of the room.
"That's our cue to invite the guests in," I said softly.
We walked out of the house and stood by the main entrance, smiling at the guests as they arrived. Well Zara was, I'm pretty sure my smile was a borderline grimace.
People stopped by to give their condolences before stepping into the house which I accepted monotonically. Their words would only mean so much to me.
