Politics

That corpse rolled off the bed into a collection box. Off it went unconsciously and disappeared shortly from our eye sights. The short silence of condolences ended, and chatters resumed. I heard gossips and I heard after life plans. But I didn't hear many good wishes and farewell.

All I heard was politics.

Politics about how much money to be spent. Politics about which relatives shouldn't have said what. All they talked about had little to do with the death, especially the politics of what day should the memorial be.

Politics, it was such a disappointing element of someone's death. It was all about the remaining offsprings, and all about fortune. Dead people couldn't say no to any interpretations or treatments no matter how ridiculous they were. If the dead had known such sacrilege, would they come back to life and condemn such selfish act?

I would.

Selfish it was. They had to keep the corpse frozen for weeks so the living relatives could avoid retributions and make lots of money. Silliness it was. disgrace it was. Politics it was. I would vomit over the ideas and thoughts, and I nearly broke down and faint. Looked at the body-carrying box, I wished for no more torment from the living.

No more politics.