TODAY WAS MY FRIEND LUCKY'S FUNERAL. I did not go. Was feeling funereal enough at home with not the right clothes, not ready when I was unexpectedly offered a lift there with less than an hour's notice. And not wanting to face up to her children, who don't know me (though I met her daughter and remember her, I doubt she recalls me).
I miss Lucky. I've lost a friend and a sanctuary.
Every now and then I'd spend a long afternoon at her flat, which is way up in the sky. The clock on the wall ticked out time in slow-time, Lucky-time. It always seemed a long, long while but in a good way.
O well; as they say: all good things come to an end.
PS the funeral was delayed over a month in order to conduct an autopsy or coroner's enquiry type thing. I've no idea what they found... All this time she was in a great steel draw in a body-fridge.
That isn't the actual grave (got cremated anyway) but it's what I'd like my grave to look like. I want roses planted on me. If I get burned and anyone wants the ashes, they can have them. Otherwise I'd rather get scattered to the four winds...
AMY WINEHOUSE: BACK TO BLACK
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N-TRANCE: STAYIN ALIVE
RANDY CRAWFORD: SOMEDAY I'LL FLY AWAY
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RANDY CRAWFORD: ALMAZ
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