I almost missed her visit. It was unannounced, unplanned, and unexpected, primarily because I did not believe in ghosts. Not that my belief system mattered for there it was, blending perfectly into the hiss of raindrops pelting the cobblestones outside. Her voice.
She called to me again and again until finally attracting my attention and I turned to see her, pressed against the window glass, lurking like a mist, water beading across her translucent face. I struggled to open the window but could not, wanted to run outside to touch her, to hold her but I was held in place by some unknown force.
It was then that Rosalyn patiently explained, around my unending barrage of questions, the rules of our engagement. We were now a couple united in sorrow and therefore she was only permitted to visit me when the rain fell on the anniversaries of our birthdays, our wedding, and today, the date of her untimely death.