baptist cemetery
My grandmother passed away two years ago this month. Last night I dreamed I was visiting her gravesite.
The Baptist cemetery is just up the road from the house. The area is hemmed in by tall black trees. The trees seem to hum and sing in silence.
A trail of footprints follows me through the snow behind the abandoned church. I try to read the inscription on an ancient obelisk but the writing is worn away.
The dream is pretty close to how it was in real life.
Except this is some future time, some future Earth. The clouds are iron and soft grey ash falls from the sky instead of rain.