March 24 — Graveyard

It was an impulse decision. She made a hard left into the cemetery, stopped and we got out. It was not a well-kept place. I couldn’t identify a funeral home nearby. Many of the tombstones were overgrown or had dry grass caked on over the inscription by the recent rain. We wandered about the deceased, in the full flower of youth, spinning speculations about past lives, resolving to make it to ninety and beyond, and to live with all our might, while we do live.

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