Eva Maria got there first. Now she looks at the lilies on the steps. She chose the color herself. White. That is how she sees Lisandra, or perhaps Death. There are not many people. People must not have known; they would have had to read the newspaper. There is another bouquet of lilies. Red ones. Vittorio’s bouquet. Or so Eva Maria supposes. That is his idea of Lisandra, or perhaps of their love. The color he gave her every year on the anniversary of the day they met. Vittorio does not know that Eva Maria is here. One adjective springs to mind. Unusual. A court-appointed church. A court-appointed priest. Police standing guard at the entrance, in their car with tinted windows. Eva Maria got there first. She sat at the back. She watched each of the mourners as they came in. People don’t enjoy funerals the way they enjoy weddings. There is no talk of outfits, or hats, or how beautiful some of the women look, or how others have such bad taste. There is no commenting on the guests, other than deep inside.
What do You think about The Case Of Lisandra P. (2015)?
