My Hands Are Stained
The day was grey and drizzly, the sky was overhung with dark clouds, you know the kind, they never shift. Just a few people stood in the middle of this graveyard, all dressed in black, all gathered around the shiny oak coffin. Yeah, shiny, they treat the wood so you can see your tear-stained, bleary-eyed reflection in it, an added cruelty on the part of tradition. As if a death weren't bad enough, you have to see yourself at your worst.
I didn't cry, I was too angry. I just stood in my black dress and held my peace, until the vicar made his speech, I couldn't help it:
"Miserable bastard."
I didn't look, but I felt their heads turn to look nervously at me, then away again to cry their tears, fake and real. This is how we buried my father.
Later, at the wake, people generally left me alone. So I stood in the corner with a glass of red wine, ready to put up with this niggling formality for the sake of their worry. I wasn't paying too much attention, I guess I still wanted them to think I was mentally unsound, I was daydreaming. So I didn't notice him until he was right in front of me.
"Cloud."
I still remembered him vividly as he'd always been, nothing much had changed with Cloud, nothing much would ever change. He just looked a little older, a little tireder, a little leaner, and, I'm sad to say, even after everything that happened, a little more emotionally disconnected.
"He was a miserable bastard in the end."
"Tell me about it."
"I know it's probably not my place, but I don't think it was deliberate."
"You wanna know what I think?"
He started.
"I think he cared so much about saving the god damn planet that once it was saved, he didn't have any room left to care about anything else."
He just stared blankly at me for a minute.
"Don't tell me you didn't see this coming."
Yeah, my father, great leader of Avalanche, one saviour of the world, it killed him to have no supposed purpose, it killed him that he got no recognition, it killed him until he killed himself... I wouldn't say that of course.
"Maybe I did. I'll see you later, Marlene."
The day was grey and drizzly, the sky was overhung with dark clouds, you know the kind, they never shift. Just a few people stood in the middle of this graveyard, all dressed in black, all gathered around the shiny oak coffin. Yeah, shiny, they treat the wood so you can see your tear-stained, bleary-eyed reflection in it, an added cruelty on the part of tradition. As if a death weren't bad enough, you have to see yourself at your worst.
I didn't cry, I was too angry. I just stood in my black dress and held my peace, until the vicar made his speech, I couldn't help it:
"Miserable bastard."
I didn't look, but I felt their heads turn to look nervously at me, then away again to cry their tears, fake and real. This is how we buried my father.
Later, at the wake, people generally left me alone. So I stood in the corner with a glass of red wine, ready to put up with this niggling formality for the sake of their worry. I wasn't paying too much attention, I guess I still wanted them to think I was mentally unsound, I was daydreaming. So I didn't notice him until he was right in front of me.
"Cloud."
I still remembered him vividly as he'd always been, nothing much had changed with Cloud, nothing much would ever change. He just looked a little older, a little tireder, a little leaner, and, I'm sad to say, even after everything that happened, a little more emotionally disconnected.
"He was a miserable bastard in the end."
"Tell me about it."
"I know it's probably not my place, but I don't think it was deliberate."
"You wanna know what I think?"
He started.
"I think he cared so much about saving the god damn planet that once it was saved, he didn't have any room left to care about anything else."
He just stared blankly at me for a minute.
"Don't tell me you didn't see this coming."
Yeah, my father, great leader of Avalanche, one saviour of the world, it killed him to have no supposed purpose, it killed him that he got no recognition, it killed him until he killed himself... I wouldn't say that of course.
"Maybe I did. I'll see you later, Marlene."