The Tale of Fred
In the next few weeks I’ll be sharing the sad and beautiful tale of Fred.
Stay tuned . . .
The Funeral Home: Part 2- Follow the Yellow Brick Road
Midnight, ebony, night sky . . . blacks of every shade and texture surrounded us that morning. The day had come- the day of Melinda’s great great aunt’s viewing. I’d never seen a dead person before and I wasn’t looking forward to it. Would she look peaceful? Would she look human? I’d had fitful dreams the night before about the stinking mushrooms Mel had brought to the cemetery. We’d sealed them in a mason jar and left them in the grounds keeper’s shed, on top of the mini fridge with a note for Pete the grounds keeper not to open them. “DON'T OPEN! These smell like death!!” Melinda had written. I followed Kyle, up the concrete stairs, through the front door, into the large meeting room of Beatrice's Funeral Home. A mingled scent of roses and musk filled my nostrils. I heard Melinda let out a surprised snort from behind. No stink. No mushrooms . . . at least not in here. Kyle motioned for me to follow him to an open corner. Melinda trailed behind. W
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