“It doesn’t matter when, the dark clouds will eventually disappear to let the sun shine.” Her mother’s words ring in her ears as she stands on the damp green grass of the cemetery.
The sun isn’t shining now, is it, mother? She thinks, waiting the crowd to dissipate so she can finally approach her mother’s grave to tell her, “You said you were just tired, that you needed rest, and everything will be okay. You said the bad part always come before the good part. You said the sun will always shine but guess what? The sun hasn’t shine since the day of your diagnosis. My sky has been dark and growing darker since that day. What happen to the sun always shine?”
With lowered head, she makes her way around the crowd to her mother’s grave, wiping the fat drops of tears streaming down her face as she goes. A few minutes later, standing before the newly-dug grave, as she opens her mouth to speak, a sudden ray of light shines from above.
I am participating in Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writer, where we write a piece between 100 and 150 words (more or less 25 words) in length inspired by the photo prompt above.