This evening we going back to the dead house, the house what had the funeral this week.
As soon as we decide this, a couple o’ thoughts ka-ching in me.
Just like how we weddings does take place at we house, the funerals does do so too.
And just so how we weddings can chamkay, dance and ghotay for days...them funerals does linger, linger, move ‘way dheeray, dheeray, slooow, slooow.
And if you think at the dead house them characters and conversations does get muted in the grieving...think again.
At the dead house this week I see Aleea, 4-year-old girl-chile who know from now why she ain’t want to marry.
I see Combackee who waltz in with she shoes, into the house o’ mourning. [Big disrespect].
And I hear the story ‘bout the thief who phone he gyal-friend to break up with she while he in still in the act of thiefing...