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Two figures stood in the shadows, watching from a distance, a funeral procession. It was a very balmy autumn day, perfect for a funeral.
“Spike?”
“Yeah, Xan?”
“When does it stop?”
“It never stops, luv. Time just dulls it is all.”
“I always did find it stupid, how can time heal all wounds? What about those wounds no one ever sees?”
“D’know, Xan. They were talkin’ about a mortal life, luv.”
“Oh… still stupid.”
From where they stood, they could hear the Rabbi ask for blessings as they laid Willow Rosenberg to rest this day. A wonderful woman, and great friend who would be greatly missed.