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.
Amen they sang. Amen.