Amen they sang. Amen

Herewith a couple of hundred words inspired by this week's single word  prompt at Sunday Scribblings 2. Inescapable.

 

 

 

 Gladys the gossip was  heading my way. I looked left, I looked right. Inescapable.

‘Hi Gladys’ I sighed as I prepared myself for several minutes of did-you-hear-abouts, and guess-what-I-saws.  But she ignored me and walked on. Her horrid little poodle tugged on its lead. Usually it climbed my leg. Odd I thought.

As I approached the church I heard the sound of people singing my favourite hymn. I felt strangely drawn towards the ancient building.  As I entered the porch they sang Amen. I pushed open the massive oak door and an eerie creek echoed throughout the silence within. Nobody noticed.

I sat at the back, before me a handful of black-dressed mourners. They sobbed. How sad. Before them stood a cheap wooden coffin; atop a single wreath of wilting white roses. Poor soul I thought. Poor soul.

I watched as an elderly gentleman was helped to his feet. He tottered toward the lectern, a cane in one hand, a sheet of paper in the other.

As he turned to face the meagre congregation, a little girl in the front pew turned to face me. Tears streamed down her ashen cheeks. Daddy she whispered. Daddy.

My dutiful father. My precious daughter.

I wanted to leave but there was no way out.

Inescapable.

Inescapable.

Amen they sang. Amen.