Started at 12:00 Noon. Old acquaintances, friends, relatives were at the

service. The old man was perfectly poised under that piece of glass.

He seemed to be smiling. Those morticians can work miracles.

The old man was never heard laughing. Or maybe…he appeared to

laugh at everybody. He knew exactly the ways and manners of all those

present. Including the ones who never paid him back those money

loans. Oh, yes. He knew them well. The ones who never answered the

telephone…returned calls…as when he was sick and alone at the

hospital. And not one of them visited him. And now they were

congregated at the small parish with the suit and dress of hypocrisy.

Impatient to go back home and watch the baseball game. That’s why

he had that smirk of disdain on him. Everyone was deferential and

obsequious in their brief speech about him. No one could notice how

his ears bristled upon hearing such things. He was disgusted and there

was nothing he could do about it. Except wait for the moment to pass

before being taken to his eternal place of rest. So, he took a deep breath.

And counted to one hundred. It was after everyone left he finally felt at

peace. The place was empty. And he could finally relax.

Ernesto Onofre