She glided across the ice, stumbling once or twice, and I grimaced at the pockmarks she must be leaving on the surface. She wasn’t very good at skating, I decided. That made me feel a little better, like we might be on more even ground.
The further that I went back in the graveyard, and the higher up the hill I walked, the more sad the stones began to look and the older they appeared to be. They were all in a state of severe disrepair and most of them had the names weathered off completely. While some were ominously in tact, others had snapped in half and only jagged pieces of what lay there before pushed up from the ground.