THE THIRD DAY:
17
Janet had a terrible nightmare. She participated in an internment on the White House grounds in front of the Rose Garden. With a black veil over her face and a long, flowing black dress that flapped in the wind, she held three red roses in her hand. Suddenly, a storm enveloped the mourners in darkness, as they huddled under a canopy to escape the rain. Bolts of lightning lit the sky followed by deafening crashes of rolling thunder that sent goose bumps down her flesh. The burial hole had been dug and a shiny, black casket draped with an American flag rested on a silver barred conveyor.
She felt sad and frightened standing alone on one side of the grave. The blackness of the storm obscured the faces of the crowd. She sensed they were Washington dignitaries, cabinet mem
