Postscript from the Crematorium
by Martin Kerry
We stared unfocussed, at the frosted glass separating us from the outside world. The waiting room tidy, not cold, though not warm enough to encourage removal of our winter coats; the furniture functional unassuming, a touch tired, invited us to find our own level of comfort. On the carefully neutral inside wall, prints of indeterminate age flowers, a dog, a landscape (Scotland?) almost apologetic except, towards its end, a jagged crack in the fabric which nobody had addressed, and which, having been there so long the staff had perhaps ceased to notice.
Martin Kerry has an MA in Creative Writing from Nottingham Trent University. He is particularly interested in poetry and spirituality.
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