Tears streamed down his face.
She sat with him, on a blanket, in a field of flowers, a tree shading them.
Her hair shimmered in the sunlight, a light breeze blew across the meadow.
He pulled a box from his pocket and opened it, they embrassed with a lingering, passionate kiss.
Ramona, my one true love, he whispered, Enchanting beauty, matched only by her intelligence and charm.
She made my miserable life worth living.
Our time together precious, every minute I treasure.
The day of her death, as I held her in my arms, I died with her.
Close your eye’s, the voice said.
He did, he could hear the crackle of fire and felt intence heat. Surly, I’m not in Hell.
He opened his eye’s, he was in his study, the fireplace blazing, flame’s jumping at his feet.
Stumbbling backwards, he fell to the floor.
The books, he snapped his head toward the bookcase, the books were gone.
He crawled over and pulled himself up and into to his desk chair.
The last book, “death” , lay on the desk in front of him.