Sunflowers and Funerals
Harold’s been to hundreds of funerals, so why should this one be any different? It’s the same thing he’s seen countless times before.
Okay, so Maude won’t be there beside him for this one.
Not that it should really matter - sure, they met at a funeral, but they only attended a very small number together. Still, he’d love to be standing next to her for this one. He has a feeling this is a funeral she’d love to see.
He stands in front of the mirror in his room, slowly putting himself together. His fingers automatically tie the knot in his necktie without needing to be told what to do.
Funny, how different wearing a suit feels now, after going so long in casual clothes.
Straight lines, no creases; everything’s how it should be. His hair... well, that’s never really cooperated with him in the past. Why should it start now? Heaving a shaky sigh, he puts a small sunflower in his lapel before locking up his room.
Why is this so scary?
He has to force himself to open the Door. It’s not that it won’t open - if anything, it’s all too eager to let him out, soon as he touches the handle. It even knows where he was going. Outside, waiting for him, the cemetery. As far as anyone looking is concerned, he’s stepping out of a small groundskeeper’s shed, close enough to the congregation to see what’s going on, but just far enough away that he can hide in the shadows provided by several large trees.
He can’t do this. He just wants to go back to Milliways. As he turns to open the door again, he spots a familiar face. His mother is standing there, next to the priest who’s reading scripture over the open grave.
Watching her, Harold realises that this is the first time he’s ever seen his mother cry. He’s finally done it; he’s finally dead.
As far as these people are concerned, anyway. Smiling, he turns back to the shed and goes home. After all, California hasn’t been his home for a while.