Like He Was There

The moon bathed everything in iridescent blue light. She thought it would be frightening. As she listened to her tires move slowly against the pavement, she thought it would be more frightening. They left the headlights on and the cars at the edge of the cemetery. At 3 AM, she thought the night would become something to fear. That something icy would creep its way into her veins and stop her from breathing. There was the stone and the earth that had once been raw was now covered in grass...as if it had always been there. But they new better. They knew it was all just a presentation. The way some pretend to be okay...when they're still grieving. The grass was wet. The only sounds were those of the engines still running. And the sobs. Later, the one they thought was drunk and passed out in the passenger seat would begin blaring 80's pop music. It would cut the silence. Cut the heartache. Make them laugh. They told stories. Listened to her cry. Held her hand. Wondered. Going home she kept the snapshot of the night and the four of them in her mind. The bar, the alcohol, the faces. The cemetery. The laughing, the crying, the silence. It was like he was there. She believes he was. Right there. No one will make her think otherwise.