Arisara
One by one, we poured lustral water over her left hand, exposed from the marble casket, purifying her soul before being burned. I knelt down on the limestone pew, raising my hands in the shape of a lotus, thanking her for all she had done for the struggling people of my country that I failed to do as their leader.
Anurak graced his Luna’s palm with a lavender-colored lotus—the flower that represented rebirth. Anurak’s tears descended from his sockets, watering the lotus petal. The petal had been snipped from its stem, and no matter how much nourishment it received, it could never grow back, and no matter how many tears were shed at her funeral, Luna Ploysai would never wake up again.