I posted it!
Her death has no effect on her. She can’t feel sad. She just feels hollow and empty. And she hates herself for feeling like this. She knows that she should feel sad, but she can’t.
How can she feel sad about a person’s death, if she hadn’t really known that person?
She’d only seen her occasionally, they’d never spoke. Just casual ‘his’ and ‘byes’. Oh and ‘how do you dos’. But never did they speak of their life to one another. They just did their separate things. She had written, whilst she had talked with her parents and aunts.
It had been easy to hug her - and call it love. She didn’t really know why. Perhaps it was the love that they had shared had been natural.
But then, why didn’t she feel sad?
No, it had been colourless, like water vapour, their relationship condensed into love yet then there was nothing.
She lets the orchids float gently down to the ground.
“Rest in peace, grandma” she smiles, and walks away.
Hmm...
I think that this piece is kind of deep. Yes, it is. and I love this type of writing. I'm gong to try to explore deeper into the relationships of my characters from now on. And, God willing, the reader will find my writing to be just as intriguing, deep and satisfying as I will.