Death

I don't think my life will flash before my eyes when I am about to die. I think I will just picture that afternoon again. The one from that time that I don't remember any more. When we had gone to that place which I can't recall with those friends who faded away long back. That afternoon when blue sky had hid behind trees and the breeze had rushed through the blades of grass.
Would it even matter whether you aren't by my side when i die, as long as my mind can bring back for me the smell of white flowers from that afternoon  when the back of your hand had first touched the back of mine.