Three Words

Three whispered words shatter the atmosphere that had been formed over the past two hours. A social faux pas indeed, but a moral disgrace. His face remains unchanged, even when rows of people gasp and stare at him with a myriad of emotions. Disgust being the prevailing one. The woman at the microphone freezes, hand still outstretched, beckoning the man who had coldly rejected her invitation in front of hundreds. She opens her mouth a few times, words unable to form due shock. The man repeats himself. "No thank you." And then he stands, and leaves his parents' funeral midway.