The Widow

Morning 9th February. June pulled the straps on the jet black dress and sat down on the chair in the bathroom attempting to get her feet in her shoes. The funeral will start at 12.00 pm. She glanced at the vintage clock on the wall. 11.35 am. She better go now, missing the funeral wasn't an option. She took her jacket and locked the house. A taxi waited outside her porch. The driver clung into the steering wheel and had his on the road. June had noticed he looked a couple of times at her in the mirror.

The church bells rang with a couple of rests before the next strike. People had started to gather at the church benches, they shambled like sheep after one another. It was a standard for people to dress in all black. The widow clutched her paper inside her hand, she rose from the church bench and walked to the speaker's chair. The microphone shrieked when she touched it. It was now or never. A couple shielded their ears for a brief moment. The sound vanished and they adjusted readily to listen to her speech. The priest stood tall and observed her from the altar.

"My beloved husband was a faithful man to me, he never raised his voice even when we argued. I will always remember... she paused and to a few breaths. All faces were staring at her. her hands began to tremble and June leaned in the speaker's chair and buried her face into her hands. The pal of Earl sauntered to her and lead her down the aisle and comforted her. "You're doing great my dear, I'll take it from here." He whispered into her ear as he pressed his hands softly around her arms. "As miss June was attempting to tell us, Earl was a charismatic and compassionate man. I remember the time at the university..." She was far away now his words passed through her ears. She had let him down even on the last goodbye.

"My deepest condolences to you Miss June. Earl was such a charismatic man, I can't imagine what you're going through." The man spoke and pressed his hand upon hers. She wiped a tear falling on her cheek. A woman she had never seen before came up to her, and she was speaking her rusty voice, probably from all the sobbing. She shut her words out, her lips moved but she did not catch a single word of what she was trying to convey. "Thank you miss", she hugged her hunching her shoulders. The church bells rang, the clock struck numerous times. The last song was played by the organ. As the funeral had come to an end, amongst the people who were carrying the coffin, dear Earl was. The journey leads the cemetry.

People had gone in groups, some leaning on the person next to them for support. Sorrow and crying filled the air. It was unbearable. "From ashes to come to dust, you shall return." The priest read, he took a handful of earth and sprinkled it upon the pure white coffin. Three times repeating the same gesture. Roses were thrown upon the coffin. June walked calmly to the resting place, she sniffed short the rose and kissed it. Underneath her breath, she whispered to herself: "Farewell my dearest Earl." And let the rose fall into the hole. At least the priest read from the bible. It was a familiar verse, but she couldn't recognize it. "Love is patient, love is kind. It does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is self- seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrong. Love never fails, but where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are lounges, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge; it will pass away." The preist preached to the crowd.
After the final words most of people left with no words. After all it was an open funeral for anyone to attend. A Woman dressed in flats and a simple little black dress hugged her goodbye. Her hair flowy and curled delicately. "I'm so sorry for your loss. "Before she took her husband's hand. She could been anyone Earl had meet. A former collegauge, a mistress, an acquaintance. The same man who had lead her down from the speaker's chair waited. "I'm John." He reached out a hand. June squised his hand, a bit tight. She hates when people slack during handshakes. It shows lazyness and disinterest.

"Your husband will be dearly missed by everyone he knew." John once again apolgized. He sniffed a couple of times. He was red under his eyes. Perhaps he shed a tear when they locomoted to the cemtry. He was dressed in a traditional smoking with black polished shoes. His brown hair was sleeked back. He went silent for a moment. "In the end, did he suffer much?" He stared right into her eyes. June's widened. "No... the stroke killed him imediatley. I held him the moment his soul left his body." Tears rolled down her face.

"Excuse me." June bowed her head and sauntered away from the graveyard. The taxi was parked and stood ready for her to enter. She stopped and turned to him "I apologize if I seem a bit rude, I've had a heavy day. " She wrapped the coat closely around her fragile body.

"I understand miss." He phrased after her, while he stood by the grave staring at the tombstone.

She dropped her keys at her counter and shut the door behind her. She popped her shoes off and stepped into the bathroom once again. She stripped off her clothes and pulled the handle on the bathtub. The dress lay like a swirl on the floor, the veil was also along with the dress. She leaned back in the bathtub feeling the steaming hot water caress her skin, after some time the skin began to feel dry and itching. There's nothing left. She leaned back into the bathtub sinking, she took a few breaths before letting her whole face become drenched in water. Dear God, forgive me for not being strong enough.

After she had cleaned up the bathtub and her clothes she put on her nightgown and brushed her hair, before leaving it in a low bun.

As she sat in her chair she pulled open the drawer and a bottle of black liquid clattered. She held it up to her face and studied the label. A grin spread across her face as she replaced it into the drawer and smacked it shut before leaving.