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Downe. - burnt out/still glowing
I went alone to a graveyard and sat for a while beside my nan's grave. I hadn't visited it since her funeral in 1996, where I had held family members I'd never met and I numbly watched faces folded in sorrow. it was all overgrown. it reminded me of a gothic castle complete with owls and ivy. it's a long bus ride away in a Kent village called Downe, in the English countryside. a tiny graveyard next to a school. maybe placed there as a dig in the ribs, a reminder of the cycle of life. we're all born to die, and all that. I don't know why I went today. as I was questioning myself, a man walked by me with a forehead like a tombstone, I tried not to smile, I brushed away the dead flowers and overgrown branches, which were intruding on my nan's plot. picked a rose from a nearby bush and set it down. it stung my eyes a little but I didn't cry.