The graveyard conversation

HOU MAMUA O HUAOLELO

Dressed in pair of ripped up jeans, Uggs, and a beige sweater, she stood at the gate of the cemetery with a small bouquet of carnations in her arm. She took a deep breathe and mumbled, ‘Well here I go’. She paced through the wet ground and silently hoped that it wouldn’t rain again. The temperature dropped, making the air at the cemetery colder. Under a bald tree, there it was. The marble gravestone that was newer than the rest of the gravestones surrounding it.

“Hey you”, she softly said.

She placed her bag and the flowers on the ground carefully and sat on top of the gravestone. She took out two champagne glasses and half a bottle of champagne from her bag. She balanced the glasses on the gravestone and slowly poured champagne into them.

“We never really finished this bottle of champagne,” she said gently, speaking to the body that…

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