Dearly Departed As you lay the bouquet atop the closed casket, it is impossible not to smell the dirt still clinging to the fresh-cut roses. The pine box lowers, and the ears fill with the sounds of shovels scraping against rock and root. It is here that dark thoughts begin to cross the mind. What would you give to possess something you love for all eternity? What is the most you would sacrifice, dear reader, if it meant never again having to say goodbye?
Featured notes: Fresh floral bouquet, dirt, rose (smells like a fresh grave)
