She always chose to walk the long way home through the cemetery. Where others found an uneasiness that made the hairs on their arms stand up straight even on a warm day, she found solace and comfort in the sun-dappled silence.
She would pick out a name on one of the headstones and invent their story, writing down their tale when she got home so that they would be remembered in some way.
Sometimes she would pick an ornate memorial, sometimes one that was crumbling and unloved. Like the greatest leveller of all, she treated them all the same.
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