March. 25, 1892

"Moritz. Wendla. Hello, old friends. I cannot believe it's been a year since your deaths. Since last year, I feel like that there are clouds over me and they won't go away. They won't clear up. Anyway, I just came to tell you that I promise to visit you every year or whenever I can; telling you stories about what happened and telling jokes said by our friends. But, right now, I must go. Mama told me to get back home before dark."

"Every year? Really, Melchi?"

"Moritz, stop questioning Melchior! Perhaps, he's busy. At least he made a promise that he can surely keep. I trust in him. Do you?"

"Of course I do!"

March. 25, 1893

"Moritz, remember when I told you that Otto Lammermier dreamt about his mother one time? I heard from Georg that Otto's mother found out about it and grounded him for a month!"

"Well…can't be surprised there, Melchi."

"Did Otto really dream about his mama?"

"It was an awkward conversation."

"Also, I heard this joke from Ilse: Why did the chicken cross the road? To get to the other side! The only thing that bothered me is that why would anyone question a chicken crossing a road? Can't they cross the road without being questioned? Do Bohemians naturally question animals?"

"Why does Melchior often over analyze a simple thing, Wendla?"

"Because he wouldn't be Melchior if he doesn't."

March. 25, 1894

"It has been three years since you've been gone. Can you believe that? I can't. I still feel like you're with me. By now, Moritz, we're officially adults. 18 years old."

"I'm not 18 yet!"

"In a few months, Wendla."

"Also, I met this woman. She's a brilliant woman and very beautiful too. Every time I think of her, I always see her warm smile and the twinkle in her eyes. Wendla, I hope you're okay with…this. Someday, I'll let you meet her."

"I'm okay with it, Melchior! I have a feeling she's terrific lady."

"Can't wait to meet her, Melchi!"

March. 25, 1895

"Moritz. Wendla. Melchior couldn't be here today. And well, he wrote to me and asked me to come visit instead!"

"Ilse!"

"I haven't seen you since we were children playing pirates together!"

"Hello, Wendla. God, I haven't seen you since we were young children, but your death really affected me. It's as if all of my friends are passing away. I hope that we get to meet again in the afterlife. Perhaps playing pirates and messing with Moritz's hair?"

"I'd love that!"

"I'd hate that. I mean, curling up my hair. I can't wait to play pirates again!"

"And my dear Moritz, I'm genuinely sorry that I didn't see that you were troubled. It's been four years and that night still plagues my dreams, but according to Melchior all those nightmares will soon drift away. Like the clouds on a rainy day."

"I'm sorry for not accepting your offer, Ilse. I truly am. If I can travel back to that night, I would walk you home. I hope your nightmares will soon drift away, like you said."

March. 25, 1896

"Where is he?"

"I don't know."

"Maybe he's sick?"

"I looked forward to meeting the woman Melchi was talking about!"

"So was I!"

"We'll just have to see next year, then."

March. 25, 1897

"He didn't show up again!"

"Calm down, Moritz!"

"I can't! He made a promise!"

"We'll just have to see next year again."

March. 25, 1898

"Did something bad happen to him?"

"Three years in a row, Wendla! And Melchi's still not here!"

"I hope he remembers next year."

March. 25, 1899

"Did he visit yet?"

"No…wait. I think he's here!"

"I'm really sorry I haven't been visiting for around…3 years. I didn't expect it'd be that long! Remember what I told you 4 years ago? That I'll introduce you the woman I met? I'd like you to meet Sandra Gabor."

"Gabor?!"

"That's why he hasn't been visiting!"

"But that's not why I haven't been visiting. Over the past two years, I have become…"

"Is Sandra holding a baby?!"

"A father. Moritz, Wendla, from now on, you will be Aunt Wendla and Uncle Moritz to Thomas Gabor."

"I like the sound of Aunt Wendla. Auntie Wendla."

"Moritz, Wendla, I promise you that Thomas and his generation will have a better world to live in. A world where they aren't questioned by authority. A world where they can finally be free."

March. 25, 1900

"It's okay if Melchior doesn't visit us this year, right? He has a family to take care of now."

"It's been a year and I still can't get over the news! I'm an uncle!"

March. 25, 1901

"I wonder how Melchior and his family are now. I want to know if Thomas has taken his first steps. I want to know if he's even talking!"

"Maybe we'll see next year!"

March. 25, 1902

"Thomas would've been 5 years old by now."

"I wonder how the Gabors are now. I need to see Melchi again."

March. 25, 1903

"Our dearest Wendla Bergmann and Moritz Stiefel, I am devastated to inform you that my husband passed away this morning due to illness. Wherever he is, I am sure that he's now in good hands."

"Moritz? Wendla?"

"We've missed you so much, Melchi! It's been 14 years since I last saw you!"

"I feel bad that I left my family."

"Don't feel bad. That's how life-and death go. I'm sure Sandra will take care of Thomas and that they will carry on your stories."

"Thank you, Wendla."

"Melchior, how do you feel now?"

"Remember when I said that I feel like there are clouds over me and they just won't clear up? For the past few years, I've been feeling those same clouds shadowing over me day after day. But now? I feel like they've drifted away."