Departed

©2002 Patti Weisgerber
All rights reserved.

Silently, beneath the vicar's funereal drone, an emanation escaped the locked seams of the imprisoning casket. A writhing whisper of distress, it seeked its grieving intended.

It wove, under the wet percussion of the white canvas canopy, through the black-stockinged legs of the few who wept until it found the one it sought. Slender in black, steadied by a reassuring arm of benevolent decorum, she stood among them. Most Beloved. She wavered in the wind, form to its non-form, yet hollow of essence while, of him, that was all that remained. It swept her veil and brushed a silken tendril from her ear.

"Soon," it promised before melting into the drilling rain that pierced the earth's casing. "Soon."

The vacuum of her despair lifted. Despite all mournful words of comfort uttered that day, only now did she find solace.

As in life, she would follow. Happily.

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