The dead

A good morning, sky was so bright and blue sun retrieved her strength from the wild winter passed. I was taking my regular walk to work. Never paid careful attention to the playground on the way. That day I noticed an old lady with her dog. Both so gloomy and down. No joy and enthusiasm for the good weather that jingled the bell of life. This new setting of life is fantastic. But to her and the dog was only a key to open the door and come of the winter-made cage. Apparently for them the only different thing was that the orchestration of life had taken different colors. The painter has a new twist of hand of in brushing the canvas.
The dead will be dead forever.