I am a new life, or the figment of a crazy writer. I have emerged from the dark years. I mean I was conscious before I was born. You will definitely doubt this and think I am lying.
Just think I'm lying. After all, I was very exaggerated when I appeared. I was a beautiful and not timid girl. I stood in front of the tombstone of a dead old woman, lost in thought. Suddenly, I saw her old face. It was clearly me, at the end of my life.
The tombstone reads: Elizabeth, born on February 13, 1908, died on November 25, 2008. Other than that, there is no other word. Next to the monument, there are five or six bouquets of plain white roses scattered around. Maybe they were "sent" by someone who knew me, or maybe the kind-hearted gardener in the cemetery couldn't stand it and took a few from "others" to decorate it. You see, the color of the roses is a little old...