They lowered the heavy casket under the dull eyes of a close few before retreating to the reception area of the funeral home. Hands were shaken and condolences shared for the penultimate time. Some exchanged invitations to each other to meet more often as a death always brought people closer for a brief time as a passing.

Fueled by worries. Worries about how many would show up at their passing. How many would grieve? Grieve in earnest?

Like a desperate attempt at kindling, they'd blow away at the worry till it died down until the next funeral. Whether it be of loved ones or hated enemies.

A rather portly women took a cigarette from her purse that looked like it had taken a sound bashing during a commute. Her partner in conversation, a man several years her elder, waited patiently for her to finish lighting it before resuming. His advanced age set them apart in both appearance and demeanour and would draw the attention of some attendees every now and again.

But not due to any ludicrous notions for even passer-byes would see a resemblance was shared. 

“I don’t mean to speak ill of the dead, but my brother was a great disappointment to the entire family. Perhaps the greatest." She took a long drag as if to punctuate her words before continuing.

"He had such potential ... and what did he do? He ran a rundown comic book store that was bequeathed to him by an old man who did nothing but pollute the young minds of those who entered his store,” Dr Helen Mantle, a well-respected physician said, earning a nod of agreement from her uncle, Frederick Mantle. Others chose to wisely keep their thoughts to themselves rather than earn the ire of either the living or ... dead.

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Not everyone within earshot was as agreeable or wise though... as a white-knuckled Sam Porter, a friend of the late Austin Mantle, growled, “You never understood him.”

Waving a dismissive hand through the air, Fred said, “We understood him well enough. I guess we shouldn’t have been too surprised by how he turned out. Austin was never one to take on any actions aside from those given to him to do.”

Helen asked, “Do you remember when that 'Cole' boy was bullying him?”

“Yes, I do. That kid was bad news.” Her uncle rubbed his chin in recollection of events decades old. His brother had been very vocal in his grievances as well as worries about what course of action he could take. 

“Austin was lucky that Cole lost control and turned on his father.” She continued as her own memories popped up despite many attempts to let those doors stay closed.

“I’ve always wondered just how much Austin had to do with that.” At this point, Fred's eyes narrowed. His nephew had always struck him as a 'victim' until that incident. He would take the berating from others in his downtrodden stride without so much as a whimper. Blaming himself for all the bad things that happened to him.

Sam could tell from the tone that this conversation would likely cause him to do something foolish in retaliation for a friend who would never again be there to reprimand him for the act and did an uncharacteristic move by choosing to simply walk away. 

“I’ll admit that whole affair was strange. He always denied any involvement in Cole’s arrest, but I don’t know...” Helen continued to speak even as Sam broke out of earshot of them.

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In another time and a place, a baby was born.

Joy to the world.

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