Describe What You do for a Living

 
 
The firm was called Graves Brothers and stood just off the High St in Bury St Edmunds,
three immaculatly polished Mecedes Benz estates with extended wheel bases stood in a nearby yard. A horse drawn hearse was housed in a small barn, a black cob was hired from a local stables to pull it when required. As a junior partner, I was transport manager but for some unfathamable reason I was knicknamed CD, generaly considered back room staff, "Dont you go skipping off CD we need two cars by 10am, Mr Graves Snr quiped. Not allowed to meet the grieving relatives, just told to nod and look deferential. I always thought I could carry off the empathy performance as well as all the old guard.
Right, I thought better get the mortors cleaned out, You would think an easy job, but all those wreaths and flowers harbour a host of nasties, insect, spiders, wasps and sometimes bees, what worse than the funeral party screaming behind the driver, trying to get the windows open, Its enought to revive the corpse. I hear you ask did It ever happen causing an accident ? yes and a chilling one its is!  
Sometimes we must conduct a funeral for somebody intestate, with no finance or equity, paid for by the local authority these are heart wrenching affairs. A truly horrific accident when the driver was surrounded by a huge swarm of bees on the way to a creamation completly blocking the drivers vision. The hearse turned over after crashing into undergrowth, I was sent to recover the coffin in the utility van.The coffin lid badly damaged. I removed it back at our premisis, the corps wearing a distinctive smirk. I remembered the bible quote "death where is thy sting. grave thy victory" apparently the recently deceaced being a bee keeper, having hives on his allotment.  
After an article published in the local rag and picked up by the media, Henry Sugar had a Just Giving page that raised enough for a decent funeral, bees wax candles for each to light and an an open coffin,I was allowed to dress him in his white suit and hood, The hymn- How sweet the name of Jusus sounds- sung with gusto and  reflect on events and some presonal satisfsction to help with a final dignified closure  

CW:

sexual assault


Two friends sit
at a picnic,

at the beach.

One, a teacher.
A woman.

Into men.

The other, a waiter.
A man.

Into men.

So, she doesn’t need to fear
the request for sex.

Been friends since school.
And now, both twenty-six.

Life’s proceeding.
Will continue to.

The students
often scrabble.

And shout
at her.

And never
seem to

do work.

But she
enjoys her job.

She laughs.
Smiles.

Gazes at
the high noon sun.

Turns to him.
Smiles still deeper.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” he grins.

“Glad I had the day off,”
she says.

Just then, she returns.

To. To that person.
That man.

Who claimed
himself her friend.

And… One night…
His hands.

She shudders,
as slightly as she can.

Turns back
to the cresting sun.

Then back
to him.

And she smiles.

Rent empties her.
Bills shear.

And life often thwacks.

But now, they can sit.
Here.

They can picnic,
two sunlit battlers,

illuminated warriors.