No matter how much I fanned myself, the heat remained stagnant around me. When I pictured saying goodbye to Luc, I imagined it would be on a gloomy morning as though mother nature shared my loss with tears of her own. However, an overcast day would have been out of character for Sicily. Today, our dark grieving attire beaconed the sun towards us.
Tears streamed down my cheeks as I stared at the small urn carrying Luc’s ashes. The minister began his speech in preparation for the burial. Instead of pretending to listen to the Italian words I didn’t understand, my thoughts focused on how wrong everything seemed. I should’ve been able to hold Luc’s hand one last time or look at his restful face as I said goodbye.
I kept Luc’s ring on a chain around my neck. It burned into my skin as though I
