Preludes
By Daryll Delgado
A man died singing.
He had sung a total of three songs before he heaved his last breath and
collaps"d o.r u chair. It happened at the Municipal Hall. The time was
three in the afternoon-. The sun was high. Heat seeped into people's bones.
Tuba warned their blood even more. Someone's ninth death anniversary was being
celebrated. Another man's life in that party ended. It ended on a high note.
At that very moment,
Nenit4 the wife, was at home, picking leaves for a medicinal brew. Earlier that
day, Nenita had been lying on the sofa, slipping in and out of an afternoon
sleep she should not have heeded, embracing Willy Revillame in her dreams. She
had had n-o plans of taking a nap. She had just wanted to catch a glimpse of
Willy after she sent off her grandson for the city, just before she resumed her
cooking.
At the sala, she
opened the window to let some breeze in. But the air was so dry. Outside it was
very quiet. Everyone was at the Hall, to attend the ninth death anniversary of
the juez. Most of them bore the judge a grudge, but they were all there anyway,
eager to see what kind of feast his children had prepared. The children had all
come home from America and Europe for this very important occasion in the dead
man's journey. Nenita herself did not mind the judge really, even if she had
always found him rather severe. It was the wife whom Nenita did not feel very
comfortable with. There had been some very persistent rumors involving the
judge's wife that Nenita did not care so much for.
willy revillame? 😅😂
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