Silently, one by one in the infinite meadows of heaven, the deceased souls formed into lovely stars; where they would fall to earth as spirits when the time comes.

It was one of those nights. The breeze sings serenade, the moon is full. You were sitting at a hill of nowhere — watching the shooting stars flash fast.

Yvette fell as a star and rise as a spirit, right upon the grass hill. He inaudibly steps behind you, innocent green orbs glowing out of curiosity.