All Saints Day, Dia de Los Muertos, 2024: Jeremy

Jeremy met Alana at the cemetery as promised; at first, she didn't recognize him. His face was clean of makeup; his hair was a light ash brown and combed (but not styled); his eyes were their normal color (no contacts); he wore a grey hoodie, jeans, and sneakers; he had removed all of his jewelry. "I ... wow," Alana stammered (stunned), " ... I could not have picked you out of a crowd." Jeremy smiled and nodded. "And yet, the Angel of Death sees me like this all of the time - no amount of paint or finery clouds its vision. I thought I'd dress for that audience." Alana hugged him tightly; they walked to the section where all of her generations were buried, and he helped her set out a woolen blanket, candles, flowers, food, drink, and tobacco for Tio Eduardo (who'd been a three-packs-per-day man to his last). As they talked, ate, laughed, and lingered at the plots, Alana frequently stared at Jeremy and shook her head. Eventually, he hugged her again, sighing. "On this night, finality is in fashion; all of the departed are drop dead gorgeous." Alana laughed (as did the others, their echoes carried on the night air).