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Blue Skies Are Boring

A “quickie fiction” story

By Crystal D WiremanPublished 3 years ago 3 min read
1

The sky was angry. Well, it wasn’t just angry. It was furious, like someone pissed in its Cheerios. It looked like it wanted to go John Wick on the culprit. But it withheld its revenge, for the moment.

Why is it every funeral Jay ever attended involved inclement weather? Snowing, raining, the gods taking their wrath upon mortal man for his misdeeds. There was always something.

“Blue skies are boring,” Katie mumbled. She had her forehead leaning against the cool glass of the passenger door, staring at the clouds, and until that moment was silent. “Nothing to see in them,” she added.

Jay glanced over at her, then glanced back out the driver’s side of the windshield. He’d not been to this cemetery before, so he followed a string of other cars closely.

“You’re gonna have a mark,” Jay told Katie. She said nothing. “On your forehead, from leaning against the window. A big ole red mark. People will wonder if I bonked you on the noggin.”

Katie shrugged but he could see out the corner of his eye she tried not to smile. He liked it when she smiled. He hadn’t seen her smile in a few days.

The procession of cars slowly came to a stop, but then continued slower as they made the final turn to the gravesite. Cars lined themselves along the fence, and people in various shades of black climbed out, and made their way silently to the graveside.

Katie flipped down the visor and looked in the mirror. “Told ya.” Jay said. She punched him in the arm and he laughed as he feigned pain. They walked side-by-side to where everyone gathered.

Mourners had gathered, sitting and standing at the side of the closed casket, settling in as the officiant waited patiently. When everyone had placed themselves he began to speak of the deceased like one would hope to be spoken of in this moment. Good deeds, a big heart, loved by many, good person. Missed but no longer suffering. Blah blah blah.

These were all the same, Jay thought. And the older you get the more people you lose. He’d been to more than his fair share. He’ll skip the next one. This one, however, he could not.

After the words were spoken and tears shed it was time to pay final respects, say their final goodbyes. “Would I be a fool to believe we’ll see each other again?” He thought as he watched people step up to the casket, touch it gently, and walk away. “I think I’d prefer foolishness.”

He took his step up, placed a hand on the cream colored casket. The subtle gleam of pink pearliness seemed to glow despite the low light. He spread his fingers there and pressed as if to leave a mark in its perfect surface. When he removed his hand, for a split second, a fog remained—the heat of his hand on the cool surface—but that was all.

He turned and walked away, and glanced back. The sight he saw shook him. The lowering of the casket into the fresh hole, surrounded by strangers ready complete the task. And Katie. Standing there, watching him go.

For the first time in days he let himself feel it. He choked back a sob, a tear rolled down his cheek.

Katie smiled, waved a small wave. She mouthed the words, “I’ll see you again, big brother.” Then she smiled up at the sky.

Jay felt the first big drops of rain pelt his head and he too looked up. When he looked back she was gone.

Short Story
1

About the Creator

Crystal D Wireman

I’m a writer, maker, and mother. I have a website/blog where I enjoy posting new fiction and non-fiction, including life updates, articles, and general chaos. My dream is to make a living doing something I love, whether its fiction or not.

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