Confession
The crowds of the funeral of Mrs. Buckley fill up all spaces in each long wooden chair. Around ten people, stand at almost every side of a small chapel, to chat with each other. Olivia can’t spot any familiar faces when her eyes wander among the crowd. She walks past from one aisle to another, and yet none of them seems to shed a teardrop, it made Olivia puzzled, and bewildered, are these people relatives? Friends? Don’t they feel bad about Mrs. Buckley? Maybe, behind their blank faces, their hearts fall into a crumble. However, a group of elderly women in their fifties, sits at the middle chair, giggling. “Why?”, she whispers in her mind. Step by step Olivia gazes at each of their faces until from the front, Heath turned and approaches her. “Olivia!”, he wraps his arm around her body an
- Writer
