*leaning his temple against hers, he stares at the white puff at the end of the stem, holding it steady so it doesn't sway too much in the light breeze; as he stares, he thinks of what the Maestra meant to him -- she was his friend, his lover, his light...he remembers her smile, her laughter, the music she made, especially the music she made just for him, for his ears alone; and their baby -- Herman could only dream of who he could have become, and although he never knew him, he loved and missed him dearly; soon Herman's heart is filled to the brim until it is ready to burst, and with every fiber of his being focused on the fluffy white seeds wavering in the breeze, each as delicate as a departed soul, he wishes for the Maestra and their child to know that they have a place within him forever*