Spare Change
Spare Change
The dimly lit chapel is silent. If my grandmother were still alive, she would be the only one crying for her son. People like my father, who was sometimes irrationally poetic, never take into account their cause of death when asking for an open casket funeral. I guess having the shit beaten out of you over a gambling debt doesn’t cross one’s mind as the way they’re going to die. I can’t say I never wished it on him though.
I’m standing at the back of the sanctuary, partially watching the people come to pay respects, partially lost in thought. There are few enough attenders that I can still see his coffin; simple and bright, like he was once. I truly thought I loved my father, but he was not a good man, in the end. The last two years were rough; learning that my father would sell out his family was rough. We weren’t slaves, but we would’ve been on the streets if I hadn’t dropped out of college to get a job. Hell, we all had to drop things; we had to sell my little brother Jamie’s piano. I’ll probably hate myself the rest of my life for taking that away from him, but I’d be damned if I let him starve. All our bills and costs now aren’t a quarter of what he took to throw at cards. I was relieved when I found out he bit it; I’ll probably hate myself a long time for that too.
I’ve made my way to the middle of the aisle, where Jamie’s standing. He hugs me tight, resting his head on my chest. Fourteen’s an awkward age where he understands what’s happening, but he doesn’t know how to deal with it. I imagine we could have been good friends if we’d have more time these last couple years, but I’ve been working and he’s been hiding up in his room; he really looked up to dad.
Dad. It’s a foreign word to me. I suppose I haven’t said it in well over a year, I haven’t really thought of him like that in so long. Hopefully Jamie still does, or did. It’s still weird he’s gone.
When I was nine, we made a bet, my dad and I. My baby brother had just been born, and I was upset because I thought I was going to be replaced by him. He bet me three bucks that Jamie would never replace me. Being nine, I didn’t understand what it meant to make that kind of bet, but I’m not ignorant to it now.
I find myself standing by my father’s body, some people looking at me, maybe waiting for me to say something. I reach into my pocket and grab a fiver; drop it in with him.
“Keep the change.”
More Posts from Literally-nemo and Others
You seem to have such a deep faith. An unwavering faith in god. And i wanted to know, how that is possible with all that has happened. I mean no disrespect. I am truly curious and in need of something to believe in.
So I was raised a Christian, but when I was fifteen-ish I gave up on believing at all, and basically I slowly discovered God for myself (through some pretty crazy experieces). That's what is important, in my opinion: choosing to follow God yourself. And I mean, I still have rough patches in my faith, and I often get pissed off with God, but I've just accepted that He exists and that I want to follow Him regardless of what happens.
Old song, but it's snowing out, so it kind of fits!
Snow is falling at your feet You think to yourself, man, isn’t that neat Every year it comes and goes Quite a lot like wind that blows
The world keeps spinning round and round Everything keeps making sound The rain will pour down on your parade People will continue their masquerade
Is it really worth the pain? All the aching, all the strain One would really move to think That we will soon run out of ink
Doesn’t matter what you say Doesn’t matter what you do This world won’t ever stop for you Scream as loud as you can You’re still just a man
They may say you’re not enough Or maybe it’s the voices upstairs, they’re rough Hiding yourself away Won’t ever make it really go away
Maybe you are different Maybe you’re not on the hunt For something of a way out Maybe you’re just trying To figure out
How to keep calm Carry on Just because everything’s going to change Doesn’t mean nothing will ever be the same The night was long But here comes the dawn Say a prayer, build a bridge Hope is coming o’er the ridge Just keep calm And carry on.
Anybody have good advice regarding the differences between these two microphones? I'm probably going to be buying a microphone soon, and it would be good if it was USB.
Angel
She can see her house from here. So far off, it seems to hardly exist, Much like how she feels about home Though the two have never coincided
She feels the rough concrete where she sits It's broken in places and dirty; Nobody's allowed up here anyway, They might hurt themselves or something
Nobody looks up at her dangling feet She doesn't blame them, of course She can hardly see them at all And she's always seen so clearly
She stands up and looks around At the highest point that she can see, She feels just like an angel, Her dress flaps in the wind
When she wakes, she will have wings Wings that would have saved her, Were they hers in this life Imagining their soft feathers in her hands,
She falls.
Tried doing a Celtic “t” but it obviously didn’t work out too well. Done with a fountain pen.
Fear
Fear surrounds, darkness closes in The hands crawl through the windows The feet stomp up and down the stairs I'm alone
Why am I so afraid? Nobody else is so fearful My senses spike at the slightest noise My eyes fail me
I can't be alone Don't leave me Don't forget me I can't
I need you to hug me and hold me tight I need your arms around me, your breath on me I need your lips to kiss me and tell me it's okay I need you
Don't abandon me now I have no hope of survival Poison fills the air My mind is lost
Save me
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