Blair stood before the overgrown grave, head down, eyes cloudy with emotion, barely able to make out the top lines carved onto the reviled marker: “James Joseph Ellison”, it read, “1960 to 2003”. Blair read the familiar words and sighed.

“Why? Why? he moaned, a parade of emotion flashing through his gut. “How could this have happened?”

He briefly considered placing a pebble atop the stone to mark the anniversary of death, but decided he just didn’t have the energy.

He moved closer to the headstone, a pale finger reaching out to trace the angels that surrounded the words; the carvings slowly being obliterated by time.

A ghostly figure appeared beside the marker, pale blue eyes yet paler in death. “Still angry after all this time, Sandburg? I thought you would have let it all go by now.” Jim smiled a sad little smile, his handsome features ageless now.

Blair turned his head towards the sound, his own blue eyes widening in amazement as the apparition of his partner solidified before him in the cemetery.

“What? Are you kidding me, man? I am never going to get over this. How could you have got top billing here? Everybody knows you’re such a bottom!” Jim turned to look at where his partner in life gestured, re-reading what was etched there: “James Joseph Ellison, 1961 to 2003”, followed by “Blair Jacob Sandburg, 1969 to 2003”.

“And about those fuckin’ angels, man. How could Simon do that to us!” A speck of ectoplasm clung to his lip as he spit out his words. “Angels, Jim. Shit. I hate angels.”

Jim drifted over to Blair and nuzzled his unsubstantial neck. “But I like the final line, Chief. I like the final line.”

Which read “Their love cannot die".

End