The Mourner
Micro-fiction inspired by images
Nov 5 · 1 min read

Mahandra listened to the graveside eulogy, barely audible over the pounding rain. After so many funerals, they all sounded the same. All extolling the virtues of the recently departed. All false.
It always rained at Mahandra’s funerals. She provided the rain, just as she provided the deceased — murderers every one.

