I'm standing next to you and I'm looking at your sleeping face. Whiteness of your clothes makes an illusion that they're brighter than a snow which is slowly falling from the sky. We have beginning of the March, after all, right?

Your hair scattered on the pillow, white as a snow, but darker than your clothes. Maybe you are an angel? On your face I can see a weak shadow of smile. Just as we met for the first time. We were kids, do you remember? But the doors to adulthood closed behind us and the past doesn't matter.

But still we should care about illnesses. And your heart had been living with it for a long time. But then it stopped during your labor and broke. It seriously stopped.

You're dead.

Your husband is standing with your newborn daughter. A girl has your eyes, you know? I kiss you on the forehead and I feel tears in my eyes again. I straighten up and finally leave you.

The voice of my beloved spouse is the last thing which I hear before diving in the darkness.

When I'm awake, I'm in home already. I sit down on the bed and I take a glass of water from my spouse's hands.

"Why good people are dying so young?" I ask, looking at my spouse's eyes, which are as sad as mine.

"When you're on the meadow, which flowers do you pick up first?" I hear a question.

I'm a little confused, because I don't understand, what's going on...

"The most beautiful..." I reply after a moment.

"So you know, why" my spouse smiles sadly.

I'm glad that I didn't lose love of my life, but nothing can replace my friendship with you.

Second beautiful, white flower just doesn't exist.

The end