Goodbye doesn't mean forever; But it sure as hell means for now.
I just don't know how to say it. I don't know. How do you say goodbye to someone who has been gone for over a year already? How do you say 'I'm sorry' to a corpse? Leela walked around quietly for days, not really avoiding anyone in the house, but not going out of her way to invite conversation either. This was a private thing, and for once the purple-haired little trouble maker wasn't reacting, wasn't hiding or running. Wasn't fighting or raising hell. She was thinking.
Down near the lake she'd sit on the shore and stare out at the big flat rock in the center, close to the deepest waters. Absently, her fingers trailed over her roses as she walked with hands outstretched through the rose arbor, barely missing getting pricked and jabbed on the thorns. Quietly she stared at the mask on the tall wooden pole, deep in the most over-run, wildest corner of the garden where flowers and weeds fought equally for life. She even took to wandering down to the old pard house, down to the cemetery where she felt closest to the one's who died. They weren't there, those souls had gone years ago.
Standing on the bank, near the water she looked out over the lake to the far mountains beyond. Somewhere out there was the nexus, and beyond that was his world. And somewhere, on his world, he was buried, had been buried long long ago.
It was all she could think of to say, and she whispered it to the sunset, watching the sun sink down behind those mountains and setting the sky awash in crimson and pink.
"Good bye Deacon. I loved you."
Down near the lake she'd sit on the shore and stare out at the big flat rock in the center, close to the deepest waters. Absently, her fingers trailed over her roses as she walked with hands outstretched through the rose arbor, barely missing getting pricked and jabbed on the thorns. Quietly she stared at the mask on the tall wooden pole, deep in the most over-run, wildest corner of the garden where flowers and weeds fought equally for life. She even took to wandering down to the old pard house, down to the cemetery where she felt closest to the one's who died. They weren't there, those souls had gone years ago.
Standing on the bank, near the water she looked out over the lake to the far mountains beyond. Somewhere out there was the nexus, and beyond that was his world. And somewhere, on his world, he was buried, had been buried long long ago.
It was all she could think of to say, and she whispered it to the sunset, watching the sun sink down behind those mountains and setting the sky awash in crimson and pink.
"Good bye Deacon. I loved you."