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MAG 13 Alone

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The Last Resting Place of Evans - A Memoir

I don't remember the week between his death and the funeral. I'm sure it must have happened but I don't have any memory of it at all. After leaving the hospital the next thing that is properly clear in my mind is walking into that big austere house. It felt more comfortable, more familiar to be alone as though Evan had just been some wonderful dream that I was now waking up from. None of the lovely welcoming faces I'd come to know from Evans friends could be seen among the dower figures of his family. Each wore the same hard expression as his father and when they looked at me their eyes were full of something dark.

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