Re: log: cemetery - revenant and misha
"Whatever the piano promised," he said, in Plath, "Never came to pass. No day is innately special, or it is only as much as human beings make it. I had some good ones." While living, of course, and when there had been family and friends to celebrate with. "I proposed at Christmas," he said. He sat in the dirt at Misha's feet, crossing his legs over the grass and the kicked loam of the grave. "Then waited a year too long to be married. Mistakes like that exist. They cannot be changed." He should have married her when he had the chance. The chance was gone.
Eyes like white marbles regarded him. "Like what?" he asked, so blunt it pierced through his usual flourishes.
"Untrue," he said, fading back into a comfortable distance. "We make grand statements about death and living, but neither of us can say what she would say, were she here now. Death changes. It would change her, as it has changed me. Who can say how? I can only take the justice that is owed, and believe when it is over, her spirit will rest, and so will I. Until then, I answer the prayers of people like us, who pray someone will come. God will not divert a bullet from a gun, but I can."
He absorbed this information, shattering as it was to the order of things, with calm. He'd never had much of a relationship with Christ, and he no longer felt anything couldn't exist. "You don't want to end the world," he said. "If you would save monsters from death just to prove a point on human capacity for change, I don't believe you herald the end of the world." He placed a thumb on the edge of Nathaniel's carved name. "But I am sure," he said, "that not all fates are written."
He blinked up at Misha. "If it would be only what you wanted, then tell me," he said. "Tell me what I would see, if I did."
He didn't know what the presence was. He didn't know if it hunted Misha, or him, or watched them both - but if Misha was the antichrist, then so be it. Whatever waited in the wings would be worth seeing.