zara's funeral

at 9:30 this morning i joined a small clump of people at the cemetery. i recognized mani and eric from the town square, but not the others- zaras exwife, daughter, and two friends of the family. a man in a black suit moved to the center of the small room, and, without a word, picked up the urn and proceeded to the grave. we followed him across a field to a small hole in the ground, where he placed the urn and left. there were go gravemarkings, no flowers, but it suddenly became clear we had just walked across the graves of all those who went before. this field is the last resting place for those who die at the cost of the state. we took turns going to the hole and throwing dirt in. someone threw in a small guitarre... "at least no one will steal this one." "hopefully." he was the musician man, and his guitarres were always being stolen. people added korn and beer, a cigarette, and a ring. i thought how he cant take it with him, and that it is so meaningless. hans turned to me and said, "well this is it. it ends here." and i gave him a strange look. yeah, he knows about the life hereafter, but he didnt want to think about what it means for zara at that moment. zara didnt believe in jesus. after half an hour we were asked to please leave, the next group was there for a funeral.



it turns out his name isn't really zara.. its something really long and unspeakable. and his family name is brandt. very german- unlike zara. he was more of an eastern european freak.