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Inferno
Fernando Sillas
United States

Words: 825
Access: Public
Comments: 3

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Funeral for a friend

(This is part of a larger piece. Sorry.)


Sometimes life is beautiful.  Sometimes'I think.  I can't really speak for everyone.  I'd like to think that everyone's life is beautiful at some point, but I really don't know.  I can say that you specifically have.  I know you have.  And I know I have.  For a short while that beautiful moment lasted a great deal longer than a moment.  Of course I loved her, but mostly I'm like everyone else' I need some one to say beautiful things to, but more importantly I need that person to understand what the beautiful things mean.


I know when my beautiful life ended.  It ended of course, when Isais died.  Que the rain and the funeral.  Que me staring at the dirt with some preacher mumbling about nothing.  But that's it. Don't que anything else.  I'm all alone at this funeral party.  All alone with my thoughts.  I remember thinking 'is the preacher getting paid?  If so, how much?  Is there any money in being a preacher?  Probably, but who would want to do that?  I would'.(stop)


This is the kind of thinking that gets me into trouble.  My mind wanders to the abstract too much'or maybe abstract isn't the right word. 'Retarded! Yes retarded is the correct word for what I'm trying to describe, I looked up.  My mind wanders to the retarded far too much


My friend is dead and some how my mind wonders how much I could make at funerals as a priest.  I will never know if that's normal or not.  No one has ever said specifically if there was something wrong with having that thought at that moment.  I think maybe it was normal, I had accepted what was happening and I moved on to the next moment. At one point in my life I realized I was going to die and no religion could comfort me. I cried for a long time, but eventually I stopped and realized there was nothing I could do about it. I also realized it is and will always be the great unknown.  I remember my last thought as I walked away from the dirt and the box ' he knows more than I do.'  And he still does, but not for long

Sorry, there is that foreshadowing again.  If you really want to know.. we are all gonna die.. you' me '.every person you've slept, touched, or even imagined(especially them) are going to die and there isn't anything you can do about it'.thats how it ends! But thats not the point is it.  And the ending doesn't have anything to with the story'does it'so let's continue with the part that counts, The Will    

The will was boring.  I hated being there. I heard he died with nothing. I was the only person and I hadn't seen him in years.  I heard he got lost in south America or something.  But there I was Sitting there.  This 30's something very familiar women sorting legal forms.  I left my wife at home.  She didn't feel well anyway and neither did I.  Every time the lady spoke my head would ache and I began to get dizzy. 
   
'Isais.' She said looking at very curiously

  'Mr. Carmona has left you with a few things.  First I'm instructed to read this paper out loud.  Ah hem."
 
**************
Dear life

Fuck you

all the best

Isais

*************

I couldn't help but laugh a little.           

'He always was a hard ass'.tough as nails (I think I shook my head) and just as dumb.'  'your friend is dead' she said bothered.

I looked right at her with a sweating pounding head '  We are still friends and that's how friends talk about each other.'

    'Maybe' ..she said' 'He wanted you to keep it.'
         
'The letter?'
    
'Yes.'

  'Ok'''  the pause here was kinda long and uncomfortable. ' I think I'll frame it'

'You also get these!' I could feel the color leave my face.  As she handed me what looked like 300 souls.   Though I never counted.  'They are all yours.'         

'He saved them all?!?!?!' I know I smiled 'that son of a bitch'  The one on the top said 'keep this better than I could' and it was signed by him.  'sentimental' he knew he was going down'.. 

'you going to frame all those to?'
   
'I can't afford all the frames? That's it I guess?'
        
'yes' she said getting her stuff together.      

'well, thanks I guess'' I said at the peak of my illness.

'what are you really gonna do with them all?'    

I didn't know.  To tell you the truth I still don't, but like I said. 'He knows more than I do.'  And that just might change before I check out of this place.

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Comments  
Comment by: - 2006-05-13 11:34
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That is very interesting. I like.
Comment by: - 2006-05-11 15:30
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You could definitely work this piece into a novel. Part of it reminded me of Albert Camus' 'The Stranger". You have writing talent.
Kerosene Comment by: Kerosene - 2006-05-10 09:00
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Say what?? I dug the randomness and I dont know if that was your intent. If so, its an interesting piece. I like the thoughts at the funeral but after that the story takes twists and turns that are hard to follow. Maybe clean it up a bit by adding more clarity as to where and whats going on with the narrator.

The letter cracked me up!
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