Somewhere Out There
On those rare occasions when he could actually see the stars through Harry's shop front window, Bob found himself wondering … was she out there somewhere, spending eternity in that mythic Heaven the Church extoled as the reward for all good souls. Surely if such a place existed, that was where his Winifred would be, for no more beautiful nor kind-spirited an angel had ever graced the earth, then or since.
Or perhaps she had moved on to another plain of existance, to begin life anew. Was she happy?, he wondered. And did she ever, even fleetingly, think of him? Or had she ascended beyond human emotion to a higher existence where mortal love and memories no longer held meaning or importance?
Mostly, he mourned the loss of her, even now, and wondered … did she miss him? Or even remember him at all…?
(OOC: Here there be ghosts, courtesy of Bob's writer.)
Or perhaps she had moved on to another plain of existance, to begin life anew. Was she happy?, he wondered. And did she ever, even fleetingly, think of him? Or had she ascended beyond human emotion to a higher existence where mortal love and memories no longer held meaning or importance?
Mostly, he mourned the loss of her, even now, and wondered … did she miss him? Or even remember him at all…?
(OOC: Here there be ghosts, courtesy of Bob's writer.)