I started not to write this article. It's about cemetery plots. This is only my third sentence, but I've already got the creeps.
When I was a kid, the old folks used to gather and talk about their cemetery plots. I would leave the room. When I returned, they had usually progressed to the fire on Judgment Day. I would leave the room again.
"Where is your plot, Lettie?" one of the old folks would ask another.
"On the knoll."
"Not much shade up there."
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