CONRAD
The burial was concluded, with loud voices of people sobbing and hushed whispers filling the place. It was a private burial done in one of their large estates.
After the burial, mourners gathered around to console Mr and Mrs Hughes. Most of them offered sweet words as consolation, others bowing and leaving. They could never know which of them had the real emotions. They were all the same. Consolation, patting on the shoulder or hugging, then they leave to carry on with their lives.
I stood by a corner of the large garden, watching them leave one by one, hoping to leave this suffocating place too. These types of places weren't meant for me. I had stopped attending burials after my mother's own.
But I had insisted on coming, as I was the first son-in-law. Mostly, it was because
