A rose
My Nan pretty much brought me up. My parents worked very long hours to try and keep our family afloat and I didn’t see them much. After my granddad died they decided to move my Nan into our house and she would pick me up from school and feed me and help with my homework and be a mother to me.

She was a fantastic woman. She was Italian and had moved to England before WW2 after a great many of her family were killed. She was as mad as a box of frogs, but, she could never do enough for her family and friends.

When I was 13 the doctors told her she only had a year left at the most. Being from a generation that never gave up - she lasted 2 years. Watching her die that slowly was terrible, but, it gave us all a good amount of time to show her how much we loved her.

Her funeral was at the end of September and it was a very overcast day. After the service at the church we drove to the cemetery and they laid her coffin out next to my granddads. The cemetery was empty apart from some young parents with there two children and those that had came to bury my Nan.

I remember how grey everything looked. The overcast day seemed to have washed colour from everything. The flowers we had placed looked pale. The cemetery, with its oak trees and flower beds, looked drained and limp. The cityscape backdrop looked bleak. I thought to myself “this is not right – for someone who was always so bright and colourful to be buried on such a dreary day is not right”. I started to sob uncontrollably.

I then felt a tug on my trousers. I looked down and it was the little girl who had been playing with her brother while her young parents were tending to a grave.

She looked up with me with her big blue eyes and gave me a single red rose to lie on the grave.

The rose was poetry – it seemed to illuminate the entire cemetery. Its deep red petals almost glowed in the drab, grey field. Such a simple flower made everything seem calm. I felt washed with happiness. Colour had been restored when it was most needed.

I looked into her deep blue eyes and said

“Would you fuck off you little bitch – cant you see I am trying to bury my Nan for fucks sake*


*B3TA edit
( KISS.ME.WHERE.I.POO Signed the sex offenders register on, Thu 2 Oct 2008, 22:02, 9 replies)

haha
I read your original ending and decided I wouldn't read any more QOTW for a while as it was making me sad. Top work on the edit.
( enoughblueskyforsailorstrousers, Thu 2 Oct 2008, 22:09, closed)

I enjoyed the original
but this one made me laugh more.
(Bazongaloid, Thu 2 Oct 2008, 22:09, closed)

Oh KMWIP
Where would B3ta be without you?

*click*
(littlenipple hate's bad grammar, Thu 2 Oct 2008, 22:09, closed)

Oh ffs
I really ought to come over there and twat you, ya know. Were I not laughing so hard I would.

*noogies*

*SPANG!*
( The Resident Loon Not a demographic. Do not measure., Thu 2 Oct 2008, 22:14, closed)

didnt see the original
so thanks for the out-loud-laugh!
(bazmorningstar efil4nat3b, Fri 3 Oct 2008, 11:02, closed)

ha ha!
brilliant edit!
( MonkeyOfCode is your favourite waste of time, Fri 3 Oct 2008, 11:11, closed)

This week's winner!

(Reverend Fister "a disciplined fuckwit", Fri 3 Oct 2008, 11:40, closed)

This reminds me....
of Braveheart, the scene where Williams burying his dad and the girl gives him a flower, only later to be killed by some English bastard.
(Poo_Pipe_Pirate, Tue 7 Oct 2008, 12:16, closed)

But
WHERE ARE THE CHILLIES?
( Monty Boyce, My cheese game is strong, Tue 7 Oct 2008, 14:02, closed)