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It was hot when I got out of the car at the cemetery. My hair was sticking to the back of my neck, so I pulled it into a side ponytail. My high heels kept sinking in the grass as I made my way through the tombstones, so I took them off.


I sat down at her grave. I traced her name with my finger like I always do. A few weeds were growing on the corner of the tombstone. I pulled them out.


I laid on my back and looked up. It was hard to tell where the sun stopped and the clouds began.

After a while, the grass felt prickly on my legs, so I got up and ambled over to the angel statue by the infant graves.


Someone always puts pennies in the outstretched hands of that statue. I don't know why. They must think  infants have to pay a fee to be ferried across the river Styx. But who would make them pay? If it were you, wouldn't you take infants across for free?

That thought made me sad, so I went back to the grave, laid back down, and looked at the sky again. I could hear a dog yipping in someone's backyard, far away. An ant crawled onto my foot, didn't find what it was looking for, and crawled off.


A few tears ran down my cheeks, under my ears, and mixed in with the sweat on my hairline.


Later, I stood up, walked back to my car, and put my heels on again. The dog was still yipping, and the clouds were still mixing with the sun.