penpal_23
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The funeral was a blur of black and white, like a muted stop motion film made by an over zealous artist. All colors are drained, white tulips, black suits, a dull and gray tomb stone, images that would haunt her dreams.
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"You love me?"
Her bitter laugh echoing, bouncing into the air, reaching his ears. They remind him of church bells. A church bell tolling, in front, is a casket, loved ones full of tears, a silent sobbing. He'd dig his own grave, and now she's making him lie on it. And he would. He'd do anything for her, come hell and high water.