By Elizabeth Prata
I like visiting cemeteries. I always have. I grew up next to a large one. It was beautiful and even had a beautiful name. Stone columns adorned either side of the entry and a babbling brook ran in front and all along the side. Gentle hills were fun to swoop my bike down and were not hard to pedal up. Huge pine trees looking like Christmas trees allowed a solitude-seeking girl to part the boughs and lay inside the greenery on a bed of pine needles, reading Nancy Drew, at once protected and apart from the world. I liked that cemetery for its quietude, but I was not yet old enough to really ponder the eternality of those residing in it, under the ground.
Continue reading “Of Sacrifices and Cemeteries”
the-end-time.org 