No, I won't forget to put roses on your grave. @ascensoreperilpatibolo - Tumblr Blog

(Happy birthday, from all of your alternates. You are loved.)

-He really had been lucky.-

#[This taste...]#[The Taste of a Question.]

(In your residence is a collection of nice things, all bundled together, individually wrapped. It's almost like just a pile of presents--you receive albums, a new, portable record player, a few articles of fine, fine clothing, gold zippers, gold hairpins. You receive bottles of wine and sweet, sweet milk from an unknown source. You get cans of caviar, a fine wallet that looks like snakeskin, but much smoother, and above all, a group-signed birthday card that lets you know you're not forgotten.)

I had been asked what today was by that person...

-He isn't sure what to make of all this--it's... It's rather stunning. His senses are considerably dulled now, but he can hold things still. He doesn't know where these things came from--the signed card has names he cannot particularly discern, though the script seems familiar and a bit heavy. A bit repetitive?-

-Everything seemed so fine and it was proof that he did live a blessed life like this. These people--they could carry on better now, couldn't they? He smiles a little bit more when he starts to set up the record player in his small apartment. He lets the sound of something familiar play--even if the tones were soft and missing in places, it was pleasant.-

-He wonders what that one Giorno was doing right now--the one he had met graveside. If only he could do more to have been with him. To be useful to someone.-

-His breath shakes a little with a bit of a chuckle.-

#[This taste...]#[The Taste of a Question.]

rainyprotector replied to your post:……

Friend! It is your birthday too, is it not?