We use cookies
When you visit our website, if you give your consent, we will use cookies to allow us to collect data for aggregated statistics to improve our service and remember your choice for future visits. Cookie Policy & Privacy Policy
Dear Reader, we use the permissions associated with cookies to keep our website running smoothly and to provide you with personalized content that better meets your needs and ensure the best reading experience. At any time, you can change your permissions for the cookie settings below.
If you would like to learn more about our Cookie, you can click on Privacy Policy.
Your cookies settings
Strictly cookie settingsAlways Active
Grief
The funeral is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before. If I thought I knew sadness … I was very wrong about it. Despite the temperatures being high and the sun shining on the clear sky, we’re all wearing the traditional cloaks that we only pull out for something really formal. A mass funeral is one of those occasions. The grieving women are all wearing black hats with veils. Others are just wearing hats with the short nets over their eyes. Me included. It’s a strange way to view the world, but I get used to it quickly. The heat, however, is a different story. If I wasn’t trained to endure the most difficult of conditions in the past month, I would’ve surely fainted. I’m sweating under my hat, the cloak, I can literally feel sweat pouring down my back behind the dress that I’m weari
- Writer
- chap_listContents
- likeADD
