Silvery flakes drifted down, glittering in the bright light of the harvest moon. The blackbird above slid effortlessly through the crisp air as it circled a fragile figure down below. The figure was that of a young girl just barely in her teens. She sat sobbing silently in front of a tombstone at the local cemetery where her Aunt Rachael had recently been buried. Gorgeous blue and purple flowers lay across the cool stone. Blue and purple were her Aunt's favorite colors. Every time you saw her, she wore some type of blue and purple outfit. One time, her son, Michael, had spilled some green juice on her Aunt's shirt. Aunt Rachael was so devastated she nearly fell off the boat cruise the family had set out to venture on. Mae smiled at the memory, gently rubbing one of the flowers. A lone tear made its way down her cheek. She caught it on her tongue. Mae loved the taste of salty tears just as her Aunt did. Taking a deep breath, Mae stood up, wiping her faded blue jeans. Her inherited purple jacket was now covered in winter's cold blanket. Winter; Aunt Rachael loved winter. It was her favorite season. Every year, for the last 10, she wore this same purple jacket. Now, it was Mae's turn to keep her Aunt's memory alive. She looked up into the night sky and smiled at the brilliantly bright moon. Mae could almost swear she saw Aunt Rachael and Uncle Ronnie dancing upon the Milky Way, guided by the twinkling stars. Yes, it was time to move on. With a content sigh, Mae trudged out of the cemetery and into brighter days.