Genre writing!

I've always been told two things when it comes to writing. Write what you know, and stick to one genre. They say you should find a genre you're good at writing and stick to it. I've always felt like that's bullshit. I think you should exercise your writing muscles by trying to write in different genres. If you like writing in one particular genre, that's great, but don't pigeonholed yourself. It would be like if you listened to only one band. You'd never grow. I've always felt like there's room for anything in genre crossover. You could make someone laugh in a dramatic situation or make someone cry in a comedy if you do it correctly. Anyways...


After the break is a rather emotional story I wrote today. I wasn't sure what I was going to do since I absolutely LOVED the comedic ending of yesterday's story. When I  woke up this morning I just knew today was something serious and emotional. I won't lie, I got a bit emotional myself writing it. I hope you enjoy it!

Steeped Tea

It was August 23rd. The weather was nice for a summer day; not too hot. The wind was still, the land was quiet, nature was quietly coexisting with the bustle of city life. It was the picture of a beautiful day marred only by the fact that today there was a funeral.

The family, solemn in the grief, dress all in black gathered around the grave of the recently deceased. The pastor was there to say a few words as the ornate wooden casket was lowered slowly into the ground. The dirt was piled on, someone threw a white rose into the grave. The ceremony was all so proper. So official. So...

fake.

I sat in the coffee shop across the road watching it all go down. A conscientious objector. I sipped my steeped tea and waited for them to finish. Like some dumb ceremony was going to bring her back. Mom came into the coffee shop first to try and convince me I was being selfish. This wasn't about me, it was about Grandma, and how she wouldn't want me to act the way I was. I didn't care, she didn't get it.

She made a scene before leaving of course. I pulled my hood up and ignored all the strangers staring. I heard them whispering. Probably talking about how I was such a terrible person for not going to Grandma funeral. I didn't care though. They didn't get it.

I finished my tea. I was going to get another one but I didn't feel like getting up to go order one. I just sat there starring at the empty cup. My cousin came in next and tried to talk to me. He told me how feeling sad was normal and that I'd feel better if I just let it out. I didn't respond. I just sat there looking at my empty tea cup. We sat in silence for a while before he got up and said he'd like to see me before he left. I didn't care.

No one understood how I felt. Grandma was my best friend. I could tell her anything, ANYTHING! She never judged me. She took my secrets with her to the grave, literally. The one person I could always trust wasn't around anymore. The one and only person I could count on was gone. How was I supposed to just stand around and pretend it was all OK? How was I supposed to stand around and just, act like it'll all be better with time? It won't!

I wanted another tea. I could feel the lump growing in my throat. I won't cry.

Another steeped tea was placed in front of me. I looked up to see Dad holding a coffee in his hand. He just smile and sat across from me.

"What do you want?"

Dad shifted in his seat before answering. "I just want to make sure you're OK."

"I'm not going to the funeral."

"That's fine." he said. He turned his head out the window and sipped his coffee quietly. We sat there not talking for a bit.

"It's not like I don't want to say goodbye."

"I know."

"I just. I don't want to do it this way."

"How do you want to do it?"

I didn't know. I hadn't thought about it yet. "Just, not this way."

Dad went back to looking out the window. I sipped my tea.

"Thanks for the tea by the way."

"Grandma's favorite."

"Yeah."

Dad kept starring out the window as the night sky started to take over. People were crying and hugging outside. Some climbed into their cars and drove away. My cousin waved to me from outside. My dad waved back. I gave a small wave. I wasn't mad at him. Dad spoke suddenly.

"I don't think you're being selfish. I think you're just not sure how to handle this." He looked at me. I just starred at him. He continued.

"Everyone deals with grief differently. The whole, dressing in black and saying nice things and hoping time will make it better. It's just kind of, accepted ceremony."

"It doesn't help."

Dad chuckled. "No." he said. "It doesn't help everyone." He sipped his coffee. "Grandma would've understood. You two were always close."

I felt uncomfortable now. I shifted in my seat and looked away from the window. I focused on some tea that was spilt on the table earlier.

"She would always ask about you. When you went away for university she called every day to check in on you. It was funny, she was obviously worried but never admitted it. I guess that's something you both had in common. You didn't talk about yourselves much."

The spill looked like a crescent moon. I focussed harder.

"I just remember coming home from grocery shopping one time when we went up to visit her. And there you two were, talking to each other boisterously in her dining room."

I could feel lump in my throat return. I took a sip of tea. The spill looked more like a closed eye turned on its side now.

"You two were laughing and when you both saw me you stopped and started to whisper. I asked what you were talking about and all Mom said was 'Don't you worry.'" Dad chuckled. I always wondered what you two were talking about.

I remember that time. It was the time I told Grandma about how I'd lost my virginity. She was so understanding. She told me I didn't need to worry so much. She made me feel safe and normal again. I felt so lost then, but she made it all right. I could barely see the tea spill through the tears welling in my eyes.

"I guess now I'll never know." Dad sighed. "I miss do miss her."

I tried to hold it in. I couldn't stop it anymore. The tears came fully now. I couldn't stop it. I must've looked like an idiot, blubbering into my tea at some coffee shop. All those strangers watching me crying. I never wanted to die more in my life.

Suddenly Dad was there hugging me. He held me close. He didn't say anything he just held me as I cried. I wanted to stop. I wanted to show him I didn't need him there but I couldn't. I just couldn't stop.

I cried for a while until it hurt try cry. I would've kept crying but I had no more tears left to cry. It hurt. But Dad just held me. I sipped my tea. It was cold now.

"Can we go home?"

"Sure."

Dad and I left the coffee shop. We didn't talk on the ride home. Mom was staying with my uncle and aunt so it was just the two of us. I went to bed right away when I got home. I was too exhausted from the day.

I still haven't figured out how to say goodbye to Grandma. Maybe I never will, but I know she knows I want to. She was always patient like that.