PDA

View Full Version : odds and ends on file. - Mrs. Moore



Sir.
October 1st, 2010, 07:48 PM
looking through some old files finding some odds and ends, this one was at the time heading towards some kind of mafia angle if I remember rightly. be gentle its old.

It was raining, it always seems to rain on days when there is a funeral for someone you care about, or at least it seems it ought to be so. Truly this cannot always be, as thankfully it does not rain everyday; not even in England, but people are buried in thousands every day, so some funerals must, logically be conducted in good weather.
The cemetery in central London was unfortunately not designed for rain, having no shelter or room inside the small chapel to conduct a proper service. Why James had chosen to be buried here of all places instead of at home in Bream was beyond my understanding. After all the only time James went up too London was too conduct business meetings and he had always come back in such foul moods after those, the choice to be buried here was quite beyond my understanding.
The vicar was droning on, “may you find peace…” his voice surely should have been drowned out by the sea of traffic just beyond the cemetery railings but that is one of the many unfortunate things about rain, it makes things like traffic quieter. I reflected for a moment that I should really be listening to the vicars words of comfort so as to find solace, then again not having been to church since the age of seven when my dragon of a god fearing mother died, I thought it would be rude to begin paying the ‘good Christian faith’ any attention to now. My mother well , she would be rolling in her grave the sight of me on a Sunday tucked up in bed at a very civilised hour, in fact on the odd Sunday that James wasn’t in London I was in bed all hours of my Sunday.
The vicar had stopped dribbling his ideology of a good life lead and sure safe passage to heaven and for some unknown purpose he was staring at me, I stared back; noticing not for the first time that morning that this particular vicar had been born with a vow of celibacy pronounced upon him long before he had taken his priesthood, whether by will of god or parental biology, he was a singularly charmless man.
“Mrs. Moore , are you so overcome that you would like someone else to throw in the first handful of earth - is this too painful for you?”
“No , vicar I’m sure I’ll manage I was just - collecting my thoughts, that is all”
The pause between the words just and collecting leaving my mouth would have in any other social situation almost certainly revealed the fact that I had been paying the reverends sermon no attention whatsoever, luckily though the veil of grief performed well as a shield against my little social faux par.
Bending down I threw a clod of traditional London clay down into the open grave of my husband with a satisfying thump sounding as it landed on the wooden lid. I stood quickly back up again hoping that this would suffice and we could move on to the parts of this tiresome funeral where I buy everyone a drink as they tell me what a wonderful man my husband was and how everyone would miss him so very much. Mostly lies I’m sure but thoroughly pleasant all the same.

terrib
October 4th, 2010, 07:02 PM
I would leave that whole first paragraph off.....

The cemetery in central London was unfortunately not designed for rain...was a better start.

Sir.
October 5th, 2010, 07:40 AM
you know I think i will take it out, you're right, damn why didn't I see that?

terrib
October 6th, 2010, 06:30 PM
Although, I did like the first line...but I shortened it a bit for you. I added a few words as well...I hope you don't mind...:)


It was raining. Yet, it always seemed to rain on days when there was a funeral. The cemetery in central London was unfortunately not designed for rain either, having no shelter or room inside the small white chapel to conduct a proper service. Why James chose to be buried here of all places instead of his home in Bream was beyond my understanding. After all, the only time James went to London was to conduct business and he'd always came back in such a foul mood.

Sir.
October 6th, 2010, 09:37 PM
of course I don't mind, 'tis why I joined in the first place.

The whole "white chapel" thing I can understand but all the same what with churches being one of the good places, but all the same I wanted the feel to be a little grim, unkept and well funeralesque of you get what I mean, so perhaps something more like,

"the small chapel built with the grim appearance that only cold war concrete can create"

and then of course I could dispose of the 'proper service' stuff that it can do without anyway.

what do you think?

terrib
October 11th, 2010, 06:12 PM
I am smiling...words, words, words....guys have nothing to say until they write and then they say too much...lol

Oh sorry, didn't know you wanted the church to be grim....that's even better though.

The cemetery in central London was unfortunately not designed for rain, having no shelter or room inside the century-year-old chapel to conduct a proper service.

The cemetery in central London was unfortunately not designed for rain, having no shelter or room inside thesmall neglected chapel to conduct a proper service.

The cemetery in central London was unfortunately not designed for rain, having no shelter or room inside the small dilapidated chapel to conduct a proper service.

Sir.
October 12th, 2010, 04:48 PM
I do like both dilapidated and neglected, and have pity on verbosity it was late and my brain had long since departed its post
:)