Who died??
"Maybe a blueblood."
"I've never seen many people mourn."
"Surely he is a respectable person in the country."
"I think so. Too many of them were moved to tears. In fact there were wailing loudly through the window of them car."
"I thought he was a respected Oriental."
Both Caucasians funeral home keeper was standing behind the glass and watched bodies that lay there since two days ago.
"His name is unfamiliar to us," said the one, "was brought to this place two days ago."
"Since then we inconvenience," continued the other Caucasians as if muttering to himself. "The group of mourners as inexhaustible and does not know the time."
Caucasian who hold the notebook was turned for a moment to his friend sitting opposite him, across the table, then he turned the tape. Sounded melancholy songs.
"That song," said his friend, "too gloomy."
"Wailing journey for the soul who passed and waited."
"Wait?" Asked the one.
"Yes. We are waiting. Life is waiting to take a long journey, which we do not know the end. Then, pass."
"I do not understand what you mean? What will pass?"
"We will also follow to get there even though we are now waiting. Train of life will take us somewhere. We just live it and wait. Perhaps, who accompanied us on the trip are just a handful of people. Perhaps only our relatives who mourn us, that is, if they're not in a place far away."
"A pastor and tomb keeper will lead the funeral ceremony. Our friends silently drop us to the grave. On it's just a name, date. That is all. Nor was there a mound of earth. There's nothing like a funeral song. Tearless. We're not going to like the people next door. See, their entourage had arrived."
Both are saw through the office door. Rows of vehicles and cars windows that open. Rows of cars was moving slowly, quite long. One by one pass and a long row of waiting. They watched a body lying motionless in a coffin, covered with a white cloth, with black jacket clothes, on the table were a bit low and full glass walls.