Lee and I spent the afternoon in Crookgreave Cemetery; we wandered around the graves in the wintry sun, padding on clipped and kempt grass amid the gleaming white and well-tended tombstones, marvelling at the idyllic tranquillity, the hard blue sky crossed by sharp white jet trails. We sat in the sun and couldn’t quite believe the Perfection of this Elysian place. It was beautiful.
Since Wednesday night I’ve been walking around in a cold, suppressed state of gloom.
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