The light scent of frangipani wafted around.
He stood there, dressed in his usual suit, white and silver against a backdrop of verdant green. Fitting, he thought, almost, but not quite lifting the corners of his mouth.
A small bunch of flowers, blue forget-me-nots, tiny; his hands almost covering half of the light green stems.
The grass below his feet was freshly cut and gave off the raw smell of chlorophyll. There was a dandelion pushing through the soil just at the corner where the grey stone met the earth, its puffy head swaying slightly in the wind, its seeds ready to be sent off on their journey towards a new life.
He took a deep breath and closed his eyes in silent prayer.
Placing the flowers on the ground, he reached out, fingers lightly traced her name. Deftly plucking the dandelion, the fluffy ball was held to his lips. He let out a puff of air and the tiny seedlings detached from the plant.
A thousand promises of life filled the air – a thousand promises of hope for a new day.
Feathery parachutes floated lazily in the light summer breeze, suspended in time.
He looked up towards the clear blue sky, towards the wispy scuds of white clouds.
"Thank you nee-chan. And goodbye."