I seated myself on a patch of moss. Thinking of the hundred years' wait to follow, I crossed my arms and gazed at the round gravestone. The sun appeared in the east, just as the woman had said. It was a large, red sun. Again as the woman had said, after some time it sank in the west. It was still red as it went down. I counted one.
After a while, the crimson sun pulled itself back up heavily. Then it silently sank back down. I counted two.
As I continued on in this manner, I lost track of the red suns. Count though I might, I couldn't keep up as more and more red suns passed overhead. A hundred years had not yet come. Finally, gazing at the round stone that was now covered in moss, I began to wonder if the woman hadn't deceived me.
At this moment, a green stem emerged from beneath the stone and extended itself obliquely toward me. It lengthened before my eyes and came to a stop just as it neared my chest. To my surprise, the single slender bud with a slightly inclined neck, resting at the tip of the gently swaying stem, opened its luxuriant petals. A pure white lily was before me. Its aroma moved me to my core. Then a heavy dew descended from far above, and the flower trembled under its own weight. I leaned forward and put my lips to the white petals that dripped with cold dew. As I withdrew my face from the lily, I instinctively gazed up, into the distant heights above, and saw a single star twinkle in the morning sky.
It was then that I knew - a hundred years had passed.