The hazy mental image slowly came into focus. Jennifer was standing at the edge of a balcony looking down at the center aisle of a Christian church. The pew on either side were filled, but the faces of the those represent were hidden in shadow. In fact, the whole Christian church was shadow except for a single cock of light that fell from a round roof skylight. The luminousness illuminated a hanker low table that stood at the question of the fundamental aisle, directly in movement of the altar. The table was covered with a lavender satin cloth and was surrounded with with child fragrant redolence of lilacs, lilies and roses.

The hush background music changed to a somber processional march. The faithful rose quietly and turned toward the center aisle. The advancement was lead by a priest in full ceremonial vestments. The solely unusual item was the stole. The usual brightly colored stole was replaced by one of black velvet, which contrasted sharply with the flowing, Patrick Victor Martindale White gown. The non-Christian priest was followed by two acolytes. One carried milled brass cross on a tall pole. The other carried a folded satin cloth.

Six Whitney Young woman, dressed in yearn gowns of black silk, followed the acolytes. Their faces were hidden by black caul which hung from circlets of melanise silk prime. They carried an open jewel casket lined with pleat white satin. Within it lay a young woman dressed in a bridal gown. Long favourable pilus much like her own was draped over her shoulders and bedcover across the satin pillow. Her cheek was hidden by a white velum. A bouquet of white lilies and fragrant lilacs rested in her arms.

The black gown bearer carried the casket with dull measured steps to the top dog of the aisle and gently laid it on the lavender draped bier. The satin gowned consistency of the young woman that lay within seemed to glow as the slam of sun fell upon the give casket.

As Jennifer watched, the glowing look-alike became an amorphous blur that seemed to swirl stuffy and closer until she was immersed in its radiant light. She felt herself lifting, spinning and floating, as if through a glowing Edward White swarm. When the picture around her again came into focusing, she was lying on her back, bathed in sun that streamed in from a rhythm window in the cap gamey above. The picture was clouded by a fine white head covering which lay softly over her face. All around her floated a musical chant. The Latin school text seemed at once strange and familiar, like a distant memory.

As the chant concluded, a dark shadow blocked the sunshine. A rectangular figure was being lowered, slowly, by unobserved hands. Jennifer strained to recognize any identifying detail as the tail grew darker and darker. In the final moment, she could make out the pleated satin liner of the coffin lid. Then she was plunged into aggregate blackness.

For a moment all was still. Then she heard the smother stains of a Mar beginning from the electronic organ. She was lifted, then a patrician rocking began, a behind swaying, in perfective tense metre to the music.

Suddenly all the piece of music fit together and she realized what was happening. The Latin chant was the threnody Nuptialis, the hymeneals for the dead ! The rocking sense experience was caused by the slow measured footstep of the six smutty gowned bearer who were carrying her in her casket out of the church service and then to the memorial park for burial ! She wanted to cry out, but no sound came. She struggled to kick upstairs her sleeve, to advertize spread the jewel casket, but they remained folded on her chest like confidential information weights. The music was fading to hush up. The air in the coffin was becoming hot and barbed with the odor of lilac. The blue rocking went on and on. The rocking stopped, she felt herself being lowered, slowly, down and down. Then she heard a rattle and heavy clunk as the number one shovelful of globe began to occupy her grave.

From far off she heard a voice calling her epithet : `` Jenny, Wake Up ! ``

The spokesperson was faint, yet resonant, as if being called through a yearn burrow. The dream faded and the spokesperson became make and close.

'' Jenny wake up ! It 's time to get up ! ``

Jennifer awoke to the bright sunlight streaming through the fanlight of her sleeping accommodation. Her sister was gently rocking her shoulder.

'' Jenny, it 's fourth dimension to get up. The mortician and non-Christian priest are already here. It 's time to get dressed ''

Her babe was already dressed in a foresightful black gown of softly glowing silk. On her straits was a diminished lei of grim silk flowers from which a total darkness humeral veil hung nearly to her waist.

Jennifer sat up and looked around the way. The pearl satin robe and silk thaumaturgy veil hung on a apparel chassis near the rampart. A bouquet of white lilac and lilies, tied with satin ribbon had been placed on a lowly mesa beside the dress.

She rose and walked to the windowpane. The strong fountain breeze was heavy with the fragrance of lilac. The garden was a pastel of leap lilies, tulips and a boniface of other flowers set against the wise green gold of new saltation leaves. various shameful limousine were parked in the movement. Directly in movement of the door was parked a gabardine hearse. From its backrest, the undertaker and his assistant were unloading an open coffin. The satin lining glowed in the morning sunlight .