Outside, the trees were starting to turn, the leaves beginning the change from green to all sorts of hues. Inside the car, overwhelming gray dominated. Even the driver, a woman whose hair had started to gray early, was affected. She was alone in the car, but she sometimes heard others there, where they once were, where she wished they were now. One of those voices was her own.
Along the winding rural road she drove, knowing exactly where she was going. The sun still held itself high, but she wouldn’t have cared if it were already dusk. For almost an hour she drove, stopping at a cemetery out in the middle of nowhere. This was perhaps one of the most peaceful resting places in the world. Colors seemed to clash as the woman left her car, vibrant color flowing over everything. She walked with a bouquet in her hand, eyes closed. She had sometimes had nightmares about this place; she knew it too well.
Kneeling where she was used to, tears started flowing down her face as she placed the flowers upon the grave of her husband. For the first time in nine years, to the day, she spoke.
“I love you.”
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