Biff Loman stood over Willy's grave in the Greenwood Cemetery, New York. Dusk enveloped him as the sun began shivering out of sight, silhouetting the Manhattan skyline and covering Brooklyn in a soft pink glow. The brisk, autumnal air numbed his nose and a solitary tear slowly meandered down the grooves of his face, its presence revealed by its glistening in the dying sun. Only then did Biff begin to appreciate that he would never again see his father. Guilt had plagued him for not shedding a single tear for his father but since then, Charley’s respectful, striking words regarding Willy Loman’s memory reverberated in his head
