#347715 - As we pass the grave stones, my hand yearns to reach out to caress the cool stone texture. I looked to the statue and smirked as I spoke in jest: Was it good for you? The whole way home I could think of nothing but the events of last night and somehow thought to myself that this would not be the last time I paid the cemetery a visit. A slight dampness could be felt within the refreshing night air.
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