The Coffin

And then I felt someone holding my hand. "Where am I?" I thought. As my eyes moved to extend their sight in curiosity, I found everyone bawling. And here I was, lying on the floor — numb. I looked everywhere but not in front of me. I knew there was someone lying breathless and that I wanted him back. I didn't remember who it was; I didn't want to. But then, they lifted the cadaver up to wrap it in the shroud that lay right there, calling the dead and promising to wrap it for eternity. I stood up and saw the face as white as the late winter’s moon. It didn't give me goosebumps; it gave me a blow of consternation. Soon, they began to take the carcass to the shroud. I was still; my body didn't move, yet, I was moving. My soul was taking every step with the ones taking the body towards the coffin. 

"Jack!" I cried. But he didn't listen. He didn't respond and didn't come back. He was a liar. A coward to claim that he loved me more than anyone in the world, for now, he wanted to be wrapped in the shroud and not in my arms anymore. Minutes later, he was wrapped; wrapped forever. I was still standing in front of the house he had brought me in, but my soul was now already draped in the shroud. I was just approaching to touch my husband when they lifted him yet again to hand him over to the coffin that was rejoicing on his arrival. 

Suddenly, I felt my face wet with the parched drops of water shedding from my eyes. They were definitely not tears, for tears have emotions and my emotions were now already cloaked in the shroud. Still, as I was, I heard the sound of the door of the coffin being brutally shut. They cried because he was dead, gone and still. I grinned because my soul now rested in peace with that of the man I love and our souls were now bound together- forever in the coffin.