". . .THE YOUNG WOMAN, MELANIE was a beautiful soul. She had a kind heart. Free and lovely as a dove. And we can only hope to hold such glow as did her heart until her passing."
Tyesha scoffs at the preacher's final words of eulogy. In the crowd of people gathered for the funeral ceremony, she seems to be the only unremorseful soul. How black her heart must be that she felt no love at all for the woman she'd killed?
Although the preacher's words were something coined from the hearsay of those who actually knew her and not from his personal experience with the young woman, it did not make the words less true.
Melanie was young. She was beautiful. And she was kind.
Whispers of a cold wind traverse the cozy innards of the small Chapel where the funeral ceremony is being held. The weather seems to have brightened somewhat from the time of Casselba's late entry. Outside, the skies are clearer, although more teal than blue.
