Snippet Saturday: The Coffin, an excerpt from 'Impractical Encounter'

Randy stood in an aisle. On both sides of him were long benches. Their seats and backrests were covered with red cushions that were stitched with gold. Pews. He realized that he was standing in a church.

He had no recollection of how he'd come to be there at that particular moment. He hadn't stepped foot in a church since before he came out to his family. He, unlike Billie, still believed that there was a God, but he held no compassion for religion or churches. Religion, or the beliefs his parents had about their religion, was what caused him to be cast away from his family at seventeen. Shunned, never to be spoken to by those who said they loved him but couldn't be associated with him for fear that their souls would burn in eternal damnation.

Billie had been fourteen when he was thrown out of the house. She'd call him in secret to see how he was doing. And, she'd come to see him when she was supposed to be visiting a friend. When he'd turned eighteen, Billie voiced her outrage, knowing what would happen, and then she came to live with him when their parents kicked her out a few months later. Those first couple of years were rough, but they made it. Then when Billie was twenty-two, he thought he'd lose her. Randy shook his head, trying to rid his mind of the line of thinking it was on.

He looked around, noticing that he was alone, and sitting in front of him at the end of the aisle was a wooden coffin. Randy stiffened at the sight of it. He didn't want to go to it, but something caused his feet to move forward. He wanted to turn a run from the church. He didn't want to face what the coffin held, but still, he walked toward it.

He was several feet away. Mere steps past the first row of pews when quiet sobs broke his attention away from the glossed cherry-wood. He turned his head to the right. Billie lay curled in the fetal position on the floor. Her hands covered her face, but he could see her cheek was wet with tears.

He wanted to go to her and pull her into his arms. He wanted to tell her everything would be okay. That they still had each other, and that would get them through anything, but he was drawn to the casket. He had to look. He had to find out who could possibly make her cry like she was.

Randy took the final few steps, glancing back to see that Billie was still curled up on the floor. Her chest heaving with each sob that left her lips. He couldn't understand whose death would cause her so much pain, and then he looked back to the coffin.

His breath caught in his throat as he stared at himself lying on white satin. His hands sitting on his chest, one on top of the other.

He turned back to his sister. She had managed to come and stand next to him without him noticing.

“Billie, what is this?”