a change

The thunder storm outweighed the cry of the lonely mourner. She looked up to the dark sky with hatred filling her eyes. Thin red welts appeared on her hands where the fingers clenched tightly against the palms.

"Murders! All of you, murders!" She cried out to the heavens. As if to answer, a flash of lightening appeared, seemingly from nowhere, to rest at the foot of the coffin. Breaking her silent stare with the invisible forces, she returned her gaze to the grave. A long, thin cross was scored on the topof the wooden box. A mockery completed by the religious lunatics. She knew that inside the body wore all withe, it's hands clasped in prayer, yet another mockery. Meant for degragation, long after death. With a lonely, solitary sigh, she lifted the lid to gaze at the sight, her suspicions confirmed, kneeling beside the coffin she prayed one more time to the god of there that long since failed her. Then as the first rays of sun started to show, with no mournes to attend the funeral, the soul of the newly dead slipped away from her empty shell .