I saw the man. I leaned over the coffin and saw his pale face. It looked very peaceful, but I knew better. I knew the torment that comes with death.
On the day of the funeral, a lot more people came than I had expected. All of the people wore black clothing. I looked for a seat and sat down. The funeral would begin soon. I waited. No one came to talk to me. That didn’t surprise me though. I didn’t expect anyone would.
When the burial ceremony began, everyone went to the graveyard. Six of the guests carried the casket on which there were flowers placed. All of the guests were quiet. No birds sang. No breeze blew. You could hear nothing but your own heart beat. I sat and waited.
The preacher’s voice broke the silence. He began reading the Last Rites which floated through the air. I stood up and went to where the ceremony was being held. There I saw the coffin which held the corpse again.
I watched the ceremony until it had ended and the coffin had been buried. Everyone left one after the other and I continued to stand there. When everyone had left, I went over to the gravestone. I sat down on the ground and touched the words which were engraved in the headstone. I knew the name very well. Too well. I closed my eyes whilst a tear ran down my cheek. Everything was quiet. Not even a bird sang.
With teary eyes, I read the name again. It was my own name. I leaned on the gravestone and began to weep.
