I’d hoped you were still alive and had faked your death because I annoyed you in some way, but I looked up your obituary. You really have passed, somehow I knew. A dream not long after followed, nothing I’d planned. You stunned in a white sweater, turtleneck, white slacks, something you never wore. A clue. Your kitchen was brilliant, dazzling brighter than the sun. You always kept it clean but not like this. We sat down for coffee as we’d so often done. You are happy and at peace. Checking in proved to be good for you.
Friends in high places, maybe for me too.
The prompt is: “checking in proved to be…”