A Better Place "It's raining today," I say out loud. It isn't meant for anyone to hear, but I say it anyways. Like a reminder, for something long lost. It was also raining on the day I met her. And on the day I lost her. I sigh, just like I've done every day, since her body were consumed by the cold, hard soil of the church. The sigh is filled with misery, just like the tears I didn't let out, all those years ago. I had to keep them in, though. If my son had seen me cry, he would've lost all hope. And so, I held it in. I've never cried since. I think back now, back to the time I last visited her. Even then, I couldn't cry. It's been forty-three years now - since she left for a better place, that is. It's kinda ironic, though. She always said, that I should stop smoking, or I would die. I light another one, and breathe in the smoke. I always liked that feeling. I close my eyes, and think back. For a second, I can see her face clearly. I've never loved anything as much, as I loved that smile of hers. She smiled when she died, too. Ironic, that she had to use the smile I loved so much, while she was doing the only thing I didn't love about her. Sometimes, if I close my eyes, it feels like nothing has changed at all. But I know, that when I open them again, it's all going to vanish. I think back, and I feel like I should visit her once more. It's probably going to be the last time, too. She were right, too. About smoking killing me. The hospital is taking me in tomorrow. They didn't have the space until then. I don't understand why there taking me in, though. If I'm going to die, I'd rather die at home, than in a room with an almost sterile smell. I put out the cigarette, grab my yellow umbrella, and walk out the door. I slam the door on the way out. I'm standing in front of the stone now. A beautiful reminder of the woman I once loved. No, a reminder of the woman I still love. The most beautiful thing about it, is the small angel of stone, which stand on top of it. It's weeping. Crying, for a reason that I can't see. Shouldn't it be happy, about getting someone so perfect into heaven? I feel empty now. I've felt empty for a long time, but never have I felt this empty. I start thinking. What if there is no after#life? Have I then been looking forward to seeing someone again, even though that was but a dream? And what if there is? But I end in hell, and she's been waiting in heaven? What then? Once again, I sigh. But this time, it takes something with it, out of my body. I say my goodbyes to the stone, and leave this place. I hope she can wait a little longer. "Just be patient," I say, as I start leaving the grave, "I'm coming soon, Mirabelle". The rain washes off the tears from my face.