Another day without her. Another night spent alone.
Flint lay, dead to the world, embroiled in a dreamless sleep. Her death had robbed him of the sweet visions he once had every night. The grief of her, and his lost son, lulled him to rest.
Three years. Three years since she died. The memory of that fateful eve played constantly in his mind.
He slept in the dark as the night drew on.
“Hinawa… My wife… Why?…” Flint mumbled in between breaths.
“My darling…” a voice whispered.
Flint woke up, turning his head to find where the voice might have come from. Seeing no-one, he placed his head firmly back on the pillow and shut his eyes.
“Flint…” the voice rung in his ears once again.
A bright light began to glow in the room, forcing open his eyes. There, in front of him, sitting on the edge of his bed, was her…
“Hin…Hinawa… You…”
She leaned in closer to him


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