What heaven is like

I can still remember her as she was then, the sound of her voice, the smell of her hair. I can still remember how we used to play, with dolls or with hats, with crayons or clay, I can still remember those days. She left with no warning, like a dove in the rain. She left as to say, live with no regrets. Listening now, the talk of the day, of heaven and life beyond the feared grave, I can honestly say, to no one's dislike, life with my sister must be what heaven is like.

Celia Aristy age 25 Santo Domingo submitted January 1999