The server said yes, she had heard the music too and supposed it was a funeral, over at the church. But she was new to the area and didn’t know much more. Yes, she confirmed, the church is indeed within walking distance. So Christina took a last bite of the deliciousness before her, settled her bill. She followed the sound of the mournful tune, surprised as it turned into a beautiful song. The voice now singing clutched a bit at her heart, stirring a memory of some sort. Walking towards the source, she turns a corner, and there is the church. A crowd in front, mourners, and a few stray people on the side. Christina joins those on the side, adopting an appropriately somber look. She catches snippets of conversation: “…would be so PROUD,” “hearing of this… SONIC boom,” “grew an unusual lily, … member of the ONION family.” The words swirled around her, not making a coherent whole. It feels a little like she’s prying, like looking over someone’s shoulder and trying to read their INBOX. She is about to go when someone stumbles, and she instinctively puts a hand out to catch them.

Georg’ann

Sushi held, we didn’t.

Centers of beet, carrot, cucumber.
Magenta bleeding into WHITE rice
held with dark green border.
We shared a FLAIR for creating.

Could have been perfect
MINUS his desire for a child.
I already had a masterpiece,
nothing more to give from within.

Playtime ended. Companion gone.
Long missive found in my INBOX.
Years later his regrets. Childless.
Mine a grown woman.

Heather