There ought to be a train or a shuttle bus, I thought. It was a place we were all guaranteed to be visiting at some point.
Raymond paid the driver and we stood for a moment, taking it in. “Ready?” he said. I nodded.
There were lots of other mourners, moving through the grounds like slow black beetles.
We walked up the path, in silent agreement that we were in no hurry to leave the trees and the roses and the sunshine and go inside.
A long hearse sat at the front door, and we looked at the coffin, which was covered in wreaths.
A coffin was a wooden box in which Sammy’s corpse would be lying.
What was he wearing in there? I wondered. I hoped it was that nice red jumper; cozy, smelling of him.
We sat down on the left-hand side of the room, in a pew not too far from the front.
The place was half full already, and there was a low hum of muttered conversation,
a muted, insect-like buzzing that I hadn’t heard in any other venue or set of circumstances.
I picked up one of the sheets that had been placed along the pews: Samuel McMurray Thom, it said, 1940–2017.
Inside it told us what would happen, listed the readings and hymns, and suddenly I was overwhelmed
전체재생
다음페이지
문장검색