Sunday January 20th, 2013

The exercise:

Write something that takes place in: the graveyard.

Canucks did slightly better this evening, as they managed to not lose until the shootout. So... at least they got one point, as opposed to the zero points they brought in last night.

I think they're going to appreciate having the next two days off.

Mine:

It feels strange, walking through a graveyard on a sunny afternoon. My mind insists on conjuring up ghosts, rain, at least a dash of fog here and there. Too much time spent planted in front of the television as a child, I suppose.

Still though, that blue sky overhead, this bright light surrounding me, the gentle breeze tugging at my clothes, it all seems too... happy for this place. Intruders, all of them.

Perhaps I don't belong here either. I'm not depressed, no thoughts of suicide haunt my dreams. Work is going well, I have all the friends a man could hope for, my love life is... respectable seems a good word. Not lacking, at any rate. No complaints to speak of at the moment.

Yet here I am. As I have been every day for the last month. Surely someone is going to notice me soon, start asking questions. That could get awkward, if not dangerous. I have to find what I'm looking for before that unpleasantness begins.

That bloody grave has to be around here somewhere.