The hair on Lenore’s forearms tingled, and a shiver snaked up her spine as she wended her way between the sunken plots and vainglorious mausoleums. A lone black bird watched her progress from the white slip rail on the graveyard boundary. He tapped his gleaming beak on the beam, and wiped it along the splintered wood, his gleaming ruby eye tracking her every progress.
Reaching the quiet of the decaying oak, Lenore allowed her gaze to range toward the smudge marking the blue of the ocean melding with the blue of the sky, out beyond the precipitate cliffs, out beyond this mortal coil, where she had wandered alone for ten long years. She valued this serenity, this seclusion.
She settled down onto the grasses going to seed at the edge of the plinth, leaning back tenderly against the granite headstone, engraved with gold inlay ‘Paul Edgar – a life shared nevermore’.