But I couldn't see him, my brain was playing tricks on me. And then I saw him clearly, and I was clearly in awe. He saw me ogling over him and he smil...d and looked away. 'Oh yes!!' He looked like the image I had since morning. Yes, he wasn't half naked and wasn't tanned but was a good version of my imagination.His body was in good shape, not as tall as my picture. His eyes were sensuously intoxicating. How would it feel to kiss those lips and look into those eyes and let go? I wanted him there. It had been comforting at first. People meant well, and their gestures of concern were genuine. But after a time it began to feel hollow. He grew tired of the smiles and head tilts, the sympathy cards, the casseroles. He found the bland solemnity of it all boring and false. Funeral directors were the worst, savants at coining bloodless euphemisms for death like “at her journey’s end,” and “in eternal rest.” She wasn’t in eternal rest. She wasn’t resting. She was just dead, and that’s what how. More

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