The Riverbank by Sarnia de la Maré A Short Story from the Tea Cup Shorts Book
Great Aunt Katherine had been seemingly on her last legs for about thirty years. Since I could remember she had been shrinking and creaking and swaying in the wind. Finally, she was gone and was currently residing in a casket for public viewing before burial later in the day. We had never gotten along. She was caustic and bitter and complained about everything. She irked me to the core. None of us liked her and we seldom got in touch. Mum had fallen out with her years back and the connections rusted and corroded like old batteries. Damage had been done with emotional weaponry and unrepentant intent. But in death people rally together to do their duty and triumphantly, one hopes, they ignore the fallout from the battleground. The undertaker had worked a treat. Great Aunt’s hair was spruced and pompadoured like a grand poodle and someone had done a great job on her makeup. In repose, I thought I saw in her some beauty. I had never seen it before in her. How, I wondered, had I not seen i...