The Grave of Truth
“His father and mother were buried in the small plot, and he followed them on a beautiful sunny day, with a light breeze stirring his widow’s black veil. His eldest son watched the veil covering his mother’s face and tried to see if it concealed tears. He was angry with her for now adopting the conventional trappings of a ritual she had earlier said his father had always despised. His own concession was a black armband, though Freda had followed her mother’s example and dressed in black, as had their cousins and the few close friends invited to the private burial. A public memorial service would be held later. They reminded Helmut of a flock of black crows gathered round the grave, his mother a little apart, seeming even taller because she held herself so upright. He forced back his own tears as the coffin was lowered. His father had left no instruction in his will; Minna Walther had rejected cremation, which Helmut thought was cleaner than the archaic committal to the ground. He didn’...t believe in a life after death; Sigmund had derided it.MoreLess
Write Review:
Guest
Read Also
9 / 10
User Reviews: