She put on her long white boots, denim capris, a beige turtleneck, and a white jacket. She left it unbuttoned and delicately parted her hair around the rolled-up fabric. She glanced at the refrigerator and grabbed her silver car keys. When her hands rested on the steering wheel, she took a deep breath and wanted to get out. She didn't feel like driving where everyone was in such a hurry today.
She drove around the cemetery for a long time, looking for a free spot, which she found only when a young policeman caught her eye. He waved a red lollipop practically in her face and told her to roll down the window.
"Are you lost?" he asked, adjusting his cap and leaning against her car door.
"No," the girl replied quietly, not taking her eyes off the road.
"May I ask why you're driving in circles?"
"I'm looking for a suitable spot. I guess there's nothing strange about that." She smiled artificially, glancing at the policeman.
"Well, it's not like there's anything... Except you've been driving this way for about the sixth or seventh time," the officer said, straightening up.
"Seriously?" the girl bit her lip and clenched her hands on the steering wheel. "Does it bother you?" she asked, leaning out the car window.
"Well..." the officer hesitated. "Looking at it from some perspective, it's blocking your traffic," he said, rolling his eyes.
"I apologize profusely... Officer. I'm already finding a suitable spot..." the girl sighed and rolled up the window. She drove off with a gentle squeal of tires and parked in the first available space. When she got out of the car and slammed the door, she felt the officer's eyes on her, but she didn't turn around. She walked slowly toward the cemetery, dodging people with candles on the street. She stopped in front of the enormous entrance gate. Old, but still possessed something that, instead of attracting, repelled.
"Why are you just standing there?!" an old woman practically screamed, nudging her waist.
"Can't I?" the girl asked, her eyes widening, and without waiting for the old woman's answer, she moved forward.
A cemetery by day wasn't the same as at night. Full of candles, full of people, full of leaves, full of graves... Only the most important thing was missing...
When she sat down next to the actual grave, she noticed she'd forgotten to grab the candles from the car.
"Oh well... After all, that's not the most important thing..." she sighed, sinking onto the bench and burying her face in her hands. She only picked her up when she heard some quiet shuffling next to her. Her cousin stood before her. A tall brunette with curly hair, wearing a black miniskirt, holey tights, a short jacket with some fluff on the hood, and a ton of makeup.
"Hi!" she squealed happily, hugging her so tightly that the girl couldn't breathe for a moment.
-Hi..- she choked out.
"Are you alone?" the cousin asked, surprised, taking off her purse and placing it on the grave.
"As you can see," the girl said firmly, wiping away the tears that had already rolled down her cheek.
"I came with Michałek, but he disappeared..." the cousin sighed, sitting down next to her.
"Michałek? From what I remember, your last love was named Tomek." the girl grimaced, looking at her cousin with distaste.
"Tomek? What Tomek?" the girl pondered. "And... Jakubowski?" she asked cheerfully.
"Possibly...
" "Well, he's long gone. After him, there was Łukasz, but he left for Denmark, and Marcin, but... And you know, I don't even know what happened to him..." the girl hesitated, putting a finger to her face as a sign of thoughtfulness.
"Terrible..." the girl sighed and got up from the green bench.
"And where are you?" the cousin asked, surprised.
"Well... I've already prayed. It's time for me to go. Bye..." the girl said quickly, kissing her cousin gently on the cheek goodbye, and leaving her alone by the tomb. She didn't stand there long, because a moment later, a short, brown-haired man with glasses caught up with her—in short, she'd won her new grave. The girl lowered her gaze and counted the stones she'd managed to step on on the way to the next grave. There, she knew she wouldn't see any of her family again. It was her favorite place that day. No one ever stood there, sat on the brown bench, or lit candles. She didn't even know who was buried there, because the nameplate was smudged. But whoever was there could understand her. And they both sat there in silence.
She glanced at the people passing by. The short woman with red hair was wearing what seemed like the best coat she could find. Her eyes and lips were appropriately accentuated, some beige pants, and black boots she'd just bought. She was clutching the hand of a man who lacked nothing.
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