People coming and going.

Black and white suits, and dresses.

Coming to tell me words, that I can’t hear.

I am confused, yet I know something has happened.

The room is big and the people are in grief.

Little me has no idea what the casket means.

My father picks me up and I get a first look her.

My great grandmother lies in it paler than ever.

Her arms cross on each other, and she lies comfortably in the casket.

I look at her with a blank mind. Was she really gone? All the times I had spent in the kitchen with her, making cookies or meals. All of the times I spent talking and writing with her. It was all gone and a single tear streaked down from my eye. My father brings me to another room.

He sets me down and I start drawing.

An hour later, we go home.

sorry.