|Candle half burnt out, the woman finally seats herself down at the square table. One hand arranged the two glasses, the other hand opening the bottle, thumb pushing against the cap to twist it open. She pours both glasses to the brim, setting the bottle aside without sealing it, for picking up one of the glasses and performing the rest of the annual ritual comes first. She starts the event for the anniversary, choking back tears as she knocks the glasses together, a pure tone sounding out in celebration. Salty drops meet her drink before she could lower her head enough to drink away.|
Many years have already passed, many such mournings done, but the pain she felt never dulled in the face of time.