In my Calculus class, a girl sat at the desk in front of me.

She wore a beautiful necklace; I had never seen one so clear.

A thin white wisp, spiraling so delicately,

lay in center of the crystal heart.

"I like your necklace," I told her.

She turned around, and smiled at me.

"Thank you," she replied.

"It holds my father's ashed."