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She was screaming. The entire room seemed to hum as the casket made its way to the fire. I couldn’t look. The anguish was so great, so blinding, I could not bear to look up. But I had to peer at his face one last time before the flames overtook him. I felt my stomach lurch, my hair come undone. I did not realize I was tearing at myself, my clips falling to the ground. The moments were passing. If I looked, it would happen. The tears would fall and I would be doing a disservice to the order. I was the only woman. I could not cry, despite the fact that every man surrounding me had a tear streaking his face. I could not fall apart now, just because the man in the casket had been my closest companion since I was four, my soul mate. The tears began to fall. They did not fall in drops, but in streams, hair sticking to my face as I ran to the casket and fell at its heels.
“No! Please!” I begged.
The mentor pulled me backwards, noting that the casket was closed, but I didn’t listen. I was afraid I’d forget the beautiful face if I didn’t see it one last time. But he kept pulling, and I kept straining against him. I didn’t care anymore, I drew the line there. By God, if I wanted to cry, I’d cry, and so I did. I was wailing, barely conscious of myself, scratching at the casket, trying to get closer. I stunk of desperation, the screaming from the nearby mother growing louder. Everything seemed to grow louder; my heart, the ringing in my ears, my wailing, her wailing, the pleading mentor.
But then a minister walked past me, and other than my sobbing and the whimpering mother, all fell silent. It was Brother Carn, the lonely man who dressed the dead. It took years for him to reach the casket. With an air of dignity, he unclasped the hinges and lifted. He slowly turned to me. Carn stretched his hand towards me. I took it, pulled suddenly onto my feet, staggering towards the wretched box. I began to whimper like a lost dog. I reached out and touched the cold hand. I caressed the blue face. I saw the deep, green eyes, the smooth, brown hair; I saw Leo one last time.
- by Arch Avian |
- Fiction
- | Submitted on 03/07/2012 |
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- Title: One Last Time: My Book Excerpt
- Artist: Arch Avian
- Description: The bond between the two characters, Gail and Leo, was extraordinary. It was very difficult to kill him off, but to develop the story correctly, I had to. I am posting it in a few places to be reviewed. This scene needs to be perfect.
- Date: 03/07/2012
- Tags: last time book excerpt
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