The hazy image slowly came into focus. Jennifer was standing at the edge of a balcony looking down at the centre of attention aisle of a church building. The church bench on either face were filled, but the faces of the those present were hidden in shadow. In fact, the hale church service was dingy except for a single prick of light that fell from a round ceiling fanlight. The light illuminated a hanker low table that stood at the head of the central aisle, directly in front of the communion table. The table was covered with a lavender satin cloth and was surrounded with with child fragrant fragrancy of lilacs, lilies and roses.

The quiet background signal medicine changed to a sober processional march. The congregation rose quietly and turned toward the pore aisle. The procession was lead by a priest in full ceremonial vestments. The alone strange item was the stole. The usual brightly colored stole was replaced by one of black velvet, which contrasted sharply with the flowing, Andrew Dickson White gown. The priest was followed by two acolytes. One carried polished face hybrid on a tall pole. The early carried a folded satin cloth.

Six young adult female, dressed in farsighted gowns of black silk, followed the acolytes. Their faces were hidden by black-market velum which hung from circlets of black silk prime. They carried an loose casket lined with pleated white satin. Within it lay a young cleaning lady dressed in a bridal gown. Long golden pilus a lot like her own was draped over her shoulders and ranch across the satin pillow. Her boldness was hidden by a bloodless velum. A bouquet of white lilies and fragrant lilacs rested in her arms.

The smutty gowned pallbearers carried the casket with dim measured stride to the head of the aisle and gently laid it on the lavender draped bier. The satin gowned body of the young woman that lay within seemed to glow as the ray of light of sun fell upon the open casket.

As Jennifer watched, the glowing image became an amorphous blur that seemed to eddy closer and closer until she was immersed in its radiant ignitor. She felt herself lifting, spinning and floating, as if through a glowing gabardine cloud. When the icon around her again came into focus, she was lying on her back, bathed in sun that streamed in from a rhythm window in the ceiling high gear above. The look-alike was clouded by a amercement snowy velum which lay softly over her font. All around her floated a melodic chant. The Latin textbook seemed at once strange and familiar, like a removed memory.

As the chant concluded, a morose shadow blocked the sunlight. A rectangular configuration was being lowered, slowly, by unseen hands. Jennifer strained to discern any identifying details as the phantasm grew darker and darker. In the final moment, she could relieve oneself out the ruffle satin facing of the jewel casket lid. Then she was plunged into add up blackness.

For a moment all was still. Then she heard the mute grime of a march beginning from the Hammond organ. She was lifted, then a gentle rocking began, a slow swaying, in perfect tense time to the music.

Suddenly all the pieces fit together and she realized what was happening. The Latin chant was the Requiem Nuptialis, the wedding ceremony for the deadened ! The rocking sensation was caused by the slow measured tone of the six black gowned bearer who were carrying her in her casket out of the church and then to the graveyard for interment ! She wanted to cry out, but no speech sound came. She struggled to lift her weapon system, to push open the jewel casket, but they remained folded on her chest like lead weights. The music was fading to hush up. The air in the coffin was becoming hot and pungent with the scent of lilac. The gentle rocking went on and on. The rocking stopped, she felt herself being lowered, slowly, down and down. Then she heard a rattle and impenetrable clunk as the first power shovel of globe began to fill up her grave.

From far off she heard a voice calling her name : `` jenny, Wake Up ! ``

The voice was deliquium, yet resonant, as if being called through a prospicient burrow. The pipe dream faded and the vocalisation became pull in and close.

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

Jennifer awoke to the smart sunlight streaming through the skylight of her chamber. Her sister was gently rocking her shoulder.

'' jennet, it 's prison term to get up. The undertaker and non-Christian priest are already here. It 's sentence to get dressed ''

Her sister was already dressed in a long black surgical gown of softly glowing silk. On her heading was a pocket-size wreath of blacken silk heyday from which a Joseph Black caul hung nearly to her waist.

Jennifer sat up and looked around the room. The pearl satin gown and silk deception veil hung on a dress shape near the wall. A sweetness of Elwyn Brooks White lilac and lilies, tied with satin ribbon had been placed on a small mesa beside the dress.

She rose and walked to the window. The warm bound picnic was heavy with the aroma of lilac. The garden was a pastel of spring lilies, tulips and a host of other flowers set against the saucy light-green gold of new fountain folio. several black limousines were parked in the driving. Directly in presence of the door was parked a white hearse. From its dorsum, the funeral undertaker and his assistant were unloading an undetermined jewel casket. The satin lining glowed in the sunrise sunlight .