open!
What number funeral was this? As horrible as it sounded, Glenda had simply stopped counting the number of black outfits she had donned for her past friends and family. It hurt too much to go back and think of all the people that had been lost-- in the past year alone! It was such a depressing thought....
She had allowed Tristan out of her grasp for the time being. There were a few other children here he could play with, but--- it had been a very difficult to decide on whether to bring him here or not. Of course he had met Edgar and Gilly, the Bones had been like family. But--- the atmosphere was so sober, so dark; she hoped it would all go over his head.
Glenda kept to herself for the time being, standing off to the corner of one of the main rooms. Her presence, she hoped, wasn't too noticeable (she actually felt very vain for even thinking of that). The point was this was about the families and she and Tristan were readying to leave to go back to Italy within the next few days. The Longbottoms had been more than hospitable, but it wasn't very hard to see how their lives were quickly becoming too hectic to be watchful of more and more people.
Taking a in small breath, Glenda continued to stare across at the opposite wall as she thought. The sudden presence of another body next to her snapped her out of her trance, and she blinked quickly as she turned slightly. Her thin lips pressed together flat to muster a flat-lined smile.
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