She approached the gates. The caretaker would soon be closing and locking them. She knew it was more acceptable to come earlier, but today of all days, she didn't want to risk meeting someone.
Slowly she made her way along the path that wound itself between the stones. It was a path she could have followed with her eyes closed. She had come more than once a week for the past year. He wasn't really here, she knew that, but it was the place she felt closest to him.
As she reached her destination, the normally beautiful view of the setting sun was blocked by two sillhouettes - one was impossibly familiar.
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