I'm sitting in my room and it's dark. I still have my brown suit on. I don't own a black one. My stomach is growling. I haven't eaten in a few days. It's been too busy. That's what I tell myself at least. This last week has been too busy.
Luana walks in with a plate of food.
Luana: "Here. Mom wants you to eat."
Luana: "We all miss Brenda, but you have to eat."
I take the plate and place it on my lap. She leaves and closes the door behind her. I should be outside thanking everyone who came to the funeral. I should be remembering her and sharing stories. Maybe even share a laugh at some of Brenda's crazy antics. But I'm here. In my room. In the dark. Waiting. I'm not even sure for what. I look at the plate of food. It's flautas. Steak and potato rolled up in a small tortilla shell. Mexican crema is spread over it. I love this dish. I grab one and take a bite. With a mouthful of food I cry. I sit there and cry but I'm hungry, so I keep eating. I'm in my room and it's dark. I'm wearing my brown suit. Brenda has been in the ground for a little over three hours and I'm sitting here eating flautas.
- Bits and pieces.