Burial

Churchbells remind me to this day of innocence and home. I hurried now to reach the ancient rust and eerie squeak of what you'd call a sacred portal. Townfolk had filled the chapel room, it was the final stop for all, though not today. Framed by the rustling of proud growing junipers, forbidding walls relieved by shades of purple velvet over hand-blown glass. It would provide the quick escape for any soul that had, now been recalled. An act of God, they'd say, and somber nods like reassuring waves hung from the rafters, rough-hewn oak, a single ribbon greeted, I was nearly sure just me, the one still young. There, near the coffin, a spider sat, alone and seemingly all lost. He startled me as he now stared until we both appeared to smile. I knew he could not be part of this world.