My flat looks onto a graveyard...
I recently moved into a new flat, four storeys up and with a lovely view right over the local cemetary. Not the most picturesque panormama, but the rent's low.

Every other week the council workers start digging a new hole and a couple of days later, the ladyfriend and I are treated to a free funeral, sometimes with the musical accompanyment of a lone bagpiper.

We try not to grab the popcorn and rubberneck. However, this one time, long after the grave had been filled in, I leant out the window for a cheeky cigarette.

Off in the distance, I could see two tall bald men standing by a freshly lain wreath shaped into the word "Dad" and they seemed to be hugging a third person, either a young teenager or a very short woman, I couldn't tell. I wasn't sure whether they were comforting her, or restraining them... but it turned out to be the latter as the short one broke free and dived head first into the bunch of flowers.

The two bald guys grabbed her by the legs and started dragging her away, while she ripped up chunks of grass. She escaped their grasp again and fell to her knees, this time hammering at the ground with her fists. The men came to pick her up but she shook them off then began to try to dig up her recently buried loved one with her bare hands.

It was at that point I finished my smoke and returned to my work.

But I have to admit, I was giggling the whole time.
( Butters and his titanium codsocket, Thu 12 Jul 2012, 14:29, 1 reply)

I'll be sitting next to you
On that bus ride to hell.
Giggled muchly.
( moonbadger Doesn't judge a fish by its ability to climb trees, Mon 16 Jul 2012, 10:25, closed)