Eulogy

This was an attempt at writing something within twenty minutes. Let me know what you think.

''You can do this,'' I whispered to myself.

''Yes, you can,'' responded the blank page before me.

I'd never written an eulogy before, I'd always imagined an eulogy as a loving glorification of all the good things a person had done. But I had no kind words for James.

''Talk about his work in the peace corps,'' suggested his sister.

''He spent the whole time telling African tribesmen that sex with rhinos would cure AIDS.''

''Right.'' Her voice fell. ''I think I still have that photo of the trampled tribesman stamped EPIC FAIL''

''You could talk about his sense of humor,'' she continued.

''His jokes were always cruel.'' ''And unrelenting.''

''I know but...'' Five minutes of silence followed.

I called his brother looking for advice.

''I think he liked snorkeling.'' Was all I could get out of him.

I ask his dog's opinion.

His countenance read, ''bacon!''

I asked the sun what to do and the sun just kept on shining.

''James Carmon was a good man,'' I read at the funeral, ''and... and...'' I stalled, ''he still is.''

Teary eyed mourners glanced back and forth at one another.

''That's right, this figure before you is just a wax sculpture. I was paid to keep up the act but I can't do it. You good people deserve to know the truth.''

Everyone bore a look of combined frustration, relief and anger – mostly anger.

''The truth is, he's moved to Brazil to fulfill his dream of being a sugar farmer.''

Everyone made for their cars, muttering curses under their breath. James would have found it hilarious, were he still alive.