Memorial park Girl

During her lifetime, she had never really been to a memorial park. The nearest she came was holding her breath as the family station wagon drove by. Nor had she been to a graveyard. Nor a tomb, mausoleum, or grave.

Be that as it may, she could recognize the distinction, both etymologically and verifiably, between every one of them. Her most loved stories were set in cemetery, Gothic accounts trickling with death and love and disaster.

So despite the fact that she was incinerated, and her fiery debris spread out to ocean, relatively few individuals were astonished to discover her phantom frequenting the congregation burial ground close to her youth home.