Disclaimer: Nope, not mine.
I Bet You A Hundred Bucks He Ain't In Here
Charles Bancroft Dillingham (to a fellow pallbearer at the funeral of Harry Houdini).
We buried Zhuzhen in Shanghai. It was a warm spring day. Karin, Margarite, Zhen, Quihua, Kato, Yoshiko Kawashima and I were the only ones there.
I did not cry.
Afterwards, Zhen and Quihua returned home, while Karin and Margarite went off with Kato and Yoshiko to their home. I told them I would meet them later. I stayed by the graveside that night.
At the stroke of midnight, an odd thing happened. The whole area was suddenly bathed in a glowing light, so bright I couldn't see much farther than a few feet. Then I saw Zhuzhen, standing up, staring at something I couldn't see. He didn't notice me.
I saw his face suddenly glow with happiness; then the years fell off him, and he ran forward, into the arms of a young, dark haired girl, with a beauty spot high on her left cheekbone. As he reached her, he took a scarf from his waist and looped it lovingly around her neck. Then they floated away together, high into the clouds.
I felt privileged to have seen it.