After the ceremony, the cortege edged slowly down the stairs and along the street to the waiting hearse. The mourners followed the hearse down the street to the sombre strumming of the mariachis' guitars.
Sunday, February 26, 2012
A Time to Leave
We climbed the many steps to the Guadeloupe church for its spectacular view of the city. As we approached the entrance, we heard the familiar sound of a mass in progress. I thought a service at 2 pm on a weekday afternoon odd -- but nonetheless, good Catholic that I am, knelt on kneelers at the back of the church. Before long, Bob, who is more astute then me, whispered in my ear that we'd happened into the middle of a funeral mass. I beat a hasty retreat to a corner of the church grounds, on the way out noticing mariachis in their silver studded outfits tuning their instruments.
After the ceremony, the cortege edged slowly down the stairs and along the street to the waiting hearse. The mourners followed the hearse down the street to the sombre strumming of the mariachis' guitars.
After the ceremony, the cortege edged slowly down the stairs and along the street to the waiting hearse. The mourners followed the hearse down the street to the sombre strumming of the mariachis' guitars.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment