Disclaimer: Ownership disclaimed. Oh dang.
Mimi went up the stairs to the roof, eyes bloodshot, hands trembling so much that they nearly dropped their passenger.
It was made of clay. It was simple, effective, and inexpensive. Just like he would have wanted.
Yesterday, it was. They incinerated his guitar with him. Mimi begged them to; she knew it would've been inexcusable to part him from it, even in death. She swore that if he loved anything more than himself, it was her. But silently, she always added, and that damned instrument.
The sun shone unusually bright, just to defy her. It stung her salt-chapped eyes, and overheated her sickly frame through her black leather dress, too sexy to be appropriate, but all that she had.
Mimi took the rubber out of her pocket, and set it beside the helium tank she had brought up last night with Mark's help. She smiled. It was too perfect.
She opened the little urn, and dumped the ashes and a handful of purple sparkles into the condom. Hooking the pump to the protective latex took some time, as it was ill-formed for the purpose, but she managed. As it expanded, she giggled like a twelve-year-old, struck by the ridiculousness of it all.
When it was full to bursting, she tied it off. Then, with a kiss, she sent it aloft. Yelling incomprehensibly at the top of her lungs, the way she thought she should, she stamped down on the vessel, shattering it into shards that flew and scattered amongst the cigarette ends littering the place. And as she looked back into the air just in time to see the little makeshift balloon pop in midair, showering sparkles over the midday sun, she felt peace, because it was just the way he would've wanted.