A few days later, Joyce found herself staring into the early sunrise while standing in the garden in front of long rows of roses. All of them had bloomed beautifully and it made her angry for the person who had never seen such beautiful roses.
Just as the wind blew, she shivered again. Since it was mostly dark outside, it was still cold but that did not affect her.
At the moment, a little silence was all she wanted along with the Favourite flowers that her mother had always grown in their house and had loved to receive from her father.
Roses; dark, red roses.
The exact shade of red that she would love to wear and the color that made up most of her closet. The closet that Joyce was not sure if existed at this point or not.
Today, it marked the one year anniversary of her death and it was something she realized when she had woken up half an hour ago to use the washroom. Since then, she did not feel the need to sleep again.
