Epilogue

Blackness.

The wreck of Titanic loomed like a ghost out of the dark. It was lit by a kind of moonlight, a light of the mind. She passed over the endless forecastle deck to the superstructure, moving faster than subs could move...almost like she was flying.

She went inside, and the echoing sound of distant waltz music was heard. The rust faded away from the walls of the dark corridor, and it was transformed. She emerged onto the grand staircase, lit by glowing chandeliers. The music was vibrant now, and the room was populated by men in tie and tails, women in gowns. It was exquisitely beautiful.

She swept down the staircase. The crowd of beautiful gentlemen and ladies turned as she descended toward them. At the bottom a man stood with his back to her...he turned, and it was Jack. Smiling, he held his hand out toward her.

Rose went into his arms, a girl of seventeen. The passengers, officers, and crew of the RMS Titanic smiled and applauded in the utter silence of the abyss.

The End.