It had been hours since Cherie lay down beside the grave.
The rain had stopped a long time ago, but the ground was still damp beneath her. The dirt had settled into something heavy and cold, clinging to her clothes and skin. She did not seem to notice anymore.
A cigarette rested between her lips as she stared ahead at nothing in particular.
Every now and then, she took a slow drag.
The ember at the tip glowed faintly, then dimmed again.
Smoke drifted upward and disappeared into the quiet air.
Her body barely moved except for that.
She looked like she had been left there, like part of the ground itself.
Eventually, her hand lifted.
Two fingers pinched the cigarette and pulled it from her mouth. She held it there for a second, staring at the thin line of smoke curling into the air.
Then she pushed herself up.
Her joints felt stiff as she sat upright. Dirt flaked off her clothes as she moved. Her hair hung loosely around her face, still damp in places.
