The funeral home was set up more like a church than the one I actually went to. It had a main hall with pews for sitting and at the front was an altar of sorts to receive prayers, a table to sign the book and off to the left was another room where everything was being set up. This room was being used for mass and the doors were closed. I knew that after mass they would be preparing the room for us. I had arrived very early, prior to the rest of the family, went to the book and noted quite a list growing already, so I moved forward to find a pew to scoot down.
It was quiet, peaceful and respectful with some very faint and far off whispers, not voices I could hear but mouths forming words. I couldn’t actually hear anything. I noted to myself that nobody here was recognizable to me, how odd. Some seemed to recognize me though, I caught the sorrow and pity in their eyes. After a bit I stood and walked to the back by the book again and glanced to see if any names stood out, none did. I looked around a bit then to the left doors and wondered when mass would be ending and the funeral and all of the mayhem that followed would begin.
Then, I woke up.
I laid there wondering why my mind manifested such a moment. The reality was almost the exact opposite.