The cemetery was gloomy, even when the sun was bright overhead. We’d been warned to stay away as children – the ghosts could drag you under and you’d never see the light of day again. With what we knew of magic, we believed them. Now the stories seemed ridiculous.
Gray tombstones sprouted from the ground like weeds, mossy and overgrown, most of them so old the wording was indecipherable. A few scraping indentations suggested someone wanted to remember the life of someone else.