The rain fell in tiny spears, coming in sheets to soak the earth. The graveyard was wet within mintues and the girl walked slowly, not rushing. Her feet moved up the path past the rows and rows of stones. Some were big crosses, other were simply stone plates in the ground. Past huge oaks that were spread like a leafy roof over some of the stones. Their roots stretching out as if to renew the life beneath it. She walked until the end of the yard came into site, then left the path and walked gingerly over the ground, as if afraid that she would be pulled down. Her hands were holding a water drenched bouquet of roses, six pink and six red and one white with a yellow in the very center. She approached a grave that was still new, the ground dark and muddy. The huge tree over the head stone seemed to weep with the sky. Pausing at the sight of another person beside the grave, she watched them for a moment.

The stranger wore a long black coat and dark blue jeans, their bone white hands sat folded in front. Their head bowed, strands of dark hair stuck to the long neck and smooth skin. A long fingered hand reached up and smoothed back the hair. The action brought their head up and they noticed the girl for the first time. He wasn't surprised by her presence. His eyes were still the bright, firy green she remembered, his mouth the same soft curve of lips. The length of his jaw still complimented the shape of his forehead and gave him a soft aristocratic look. But instead of the flash of laughter in his eyes, there was sorrow. A shadow of something else floated in their green depths.

"I was hoping you'd come." He spoke gently, his eyes moving to the headstone. " I wanted to be here and tell you that it's not over. Even though she is gone, I want to write and sing about her." He paused and looked up, "If you'll let me."

The girl came to the edge of the grave, they stood across from each other. She watched him for a moment longer, her two tone blue eyes sad and lost. " If you want to."

He nodded, " I do."

"Then you can."

He heard the empty pain and the sense of confusion in her voice, as if she were there and alert but somehow with drawn and aimless at the same time. He walked around the grave and stood next to her, he took her left hand and they stood silently for a few minutes. The rain fell around them; the world frozen in this place of final absolution and final destination.

"Deirdre, tell me about her." He asked finally.

The girl was silent for a moment, " Where do I start?"

He shrugged, "Anywhere, tell me like you would write her."

She looked at him the smile sad, " Like a silver ghost of untouched feeling and an angel of hope and love. With wings of platinum and eyes of gray fire, hair has brown as the earth and a heart of innoccent love and fierce determination."



Deirdre looked at the ground and felt her eyes burn as she thought back. The memories shrouded in white fog and sparkled with diamonds. Her mind's eye showed her the face and the smile, the flash of eyes and the sound of her voice. There was so much that had happened and been left to do. She dropped the flowers and let her self cry, for the first time since it had happened, she cried. Deirdre felt arms wrap around her shoulders and a head rest against her shoulder. She took his hands in hers and leaned against him, letting someone hold her.

"Go on, tell me about what you remember best." He said gently.

"Lorraine and I met at a book store on a day like this, I was working as the clerk and she was trying to find a book. She was so quiet and reserved; her hands were delicate and fragile like a bird. She had trouble asking me for help so I started the conversation by commenting on her hairstyle, she had it in a complicated braid. It seemed to ease her into talking and she asked if we had the book. I took her back to the classics and showed her. She grasped the book like a life raft and watched me. Her eyes were gray, but lit with something strong and pure." Deirdre paused and let the memory change.

"Lorn always sat on the right side of the couch, legs curled under her and arms resting in her lap, she used to lean against it as if she might fall asleep. Her hair used to spill around her shoulders and brush the back of the couch. It would always make me want to draw her, so I have portraits of her, just sitting. Sometimes looking at me, sometimes reading or look out the window."

She paused and another image came to mind, " We used to sit sometimes with out speaking, at times like that, words were incapable of expressing what we felt. But somehow we always knew what the other meant. There would be days when we would just sit and let time slip by, as if we didn't have a care in the world."

A smile and laugh came with the next memory, " Lorn tried to make dinner one night, but burned it. She was so upset, I laughed and said it didn't matter, we could make it again some other time. But she was still sad, it was our anniversary see? She wanted to make something special, we ended up having Corn Pops and milk. We ate them from the good bowls and used the good silverware. We sat at the decorated table, meant for some great feast and had Corn Pops. We had conversations about our summer camp experiences and how we had come to be in the city."

Dierdre paused and sighed, " I used to wake up at night and just watch her sleep. The way her hair would spill out over the pillows and her hands would lay relaxed against me or the bed. Her breath was so soft and gentle, just like her. Hours would go by and I was just watching her, memorizing her face."

"Did you love her then?" He asked his breath against her ear.

"I suppose, but not in the way most people love. Lorn helped me to trust again, she opened my heart and expanded my emotions. I laughed wit her and I experienced such beauty, but also pain. There were times when I wanted to say what I felt and couldn't, my heart would break and my words would be sad as I wrote them. So I guess I did love her, in some way."

"Did she love you?"

Dierdre shrugged, " We never talked about it. She was always shy about expressing her words."

" What was life like for you two?" He looked at the grave, " It must have been hard sometimes."

"Everything has it's problems, including us. But we were able to get through it. Lorn would speak with gentle words and sooth anger. I was the one who sorted out the root of the problem. We would work together to solve it. Sometimes we couldn't, sometimes we could. Lorn and I never really fought, we didn't always agree either. But we both needed the same thing so we compromised."

" What was that?"

Dierdre smoothed back her hair, " Someone to sit with and just be with. This person wouldn't try and change us to meet their world. At least not to the extent that we lost who we were. She was alone and so was I, so we took up living together and found that there was something more to be explored. Niether one of us cared if people talked or disagreed with our lifestyle, we had our own reasons for it. That was all that mattered."

He released her, Dierdre turned as he stepped back. " You know where I live right?"

"If it's the same place you did six months ago."

He nodded, " It is."

"I know then." Dierdre put her hands in her pockets and shivered. The cold water finally reaching her and forcing her to return to the present.

He took her elbow and they walked back along the path. " I have an extra room at my place, you're welcome to it."

She smiled, " What's the rent like?"

"No rent, the owner lets me have it for free." He told her, smiling at her look. " We have an arrangement."

"Oh," Dierdre watched the wet ground as they walked, " Where are you playing now?"

He smiled, " Slim's."

She laughed lightly, " Still? Wow, you must like it there."

He nodded, " It fits with my group and we get to explore new music and make our own."

They walked in silence for a moment, the sound of the gentle rain falling on them. Dierdre stopped and looked around, her eyes moving over all the stones. " I can't sleep in the room anymore, every night I lay on the couch and wait for her to come home. Time seems to stretch out like a road and only the rising of the sun tells me it's time to move around. I don't know what I am going to do with her stuff. There is no one to take it and I can't keep it."

He paused and watched her, he was silent, this was something she had to do alone. He could only wait and be here when she came back.

"Sometimes I go and sit on the bed and I just talk. My mind tires to make her real, I think I can see her walking around putting stuff away, but then a car goes by and I know it's fake." She turned around, taking in the whole yard. Her eyes seeing a different place, "I still remember when they came and said that she was dead. How she had been found in an alley, drained and paper white. They asked if there was any family and I said no. They asked if the had anyone to contact, I said no. I was the only one in her life. They asked me all kinds of questions, I don't remember them all. There were just so many. So they all blended together and sounded like the roar of the ocean, the salty spray against my face was the shift of air as they moved around the room."

He watched her eyes and saw the flicker of pain and anger, the flash of soft blue in aqua blue pools ringed by darker blue. The only black was her pupil; she was staring past him and past the yard. The shine of tears in her eyes made him look away and stare at the trees; he was never good when it came to crying. It was odd considering how much of it he used to do.

"My brother's coming up in the next month; he wants to take me home." Dierdre shook her. "They seem to think that because I am under 20, that I can't make my own choices."

"Are you working tonight?" He asked suddenly.

"No, why?" Dierdre started to walk, he followed her.

"I want to introduce you to the group and just talk about the songs. I know you used to write them for her." He said.

Dierdre smiled, " What time?"

"Around nine, we finish playing at ten and the club closes at two. We should have lots of time to talk and just arrange things." He said.

The path came to an end under an iron arch. The name of the grave written in script above them, the two stopped and were quiet for a moment. Cars rushed by them and water splashed inches from the, neither moved. Dierdre was lost in her memories, and he was lost in his thoughts.

"Kayne?" She asked and he looked at her. " Do you like having eternity, knowing that everyone around will die and be forgotten with time?"

He looked out over the street and watched as people went by. " No. But I learned to live with it. They don't get forgotten Dee, they just join my songs and my stories. That's why I am Toreador."

She looked at him, " So the pain will go away if I write about it?"

He sighed, "No, but it helps."

She nodded and lingered for a few more minutes, her eyes unfocused. Her hands stuffed into her pockets, the water soaking into her coat. " Can I move in tomorrow?"

"Sure, I'll tell the others." He reached and brushed her hair back, she looked at him. " Don't hang on to long. Just know that it was for the best and move on."

She smiled, " See you tonight. "

Deirdre turned and walked down the block, the rain falling like a curtain behind her. Life is a stage and this act was now over. Kayne sighed and went on his way, there was nothing he could for Dierdre except listen and give the cold comfort he had. She wasn't looking of an answer, just a way to move on. It was one of the things he liked about her, she was a realist. The world wasn't as perfect as it looked and she knew that.