The temperature was in the 90s. The humidity was uncomfortably high. Even though I was prepared with plenty of water, loose clothing, and a wide-brimmed hat, I was hot hot hot.
Row after long row of gravestones, but where was the marker for the ancestor I was 99% sure was buried here?
But the longer I searched, the less confident—and less enthusiastic—I became.
When I came upon a broken marker, its words washed away by time, I wondered whether it was his. I was looking for anything that might identify the marker when a devilish ghost whispered in my ear, “It’s hot. You’re tired. Go ahead: Adopt this gravestone as Uncle Charlie’s.”
No no no! I managed to shake off the tempting suggestion and, just a short while later, I found Uncle Charlie’s gravestone. The real one.
By the way, Uncle Charlie’s name has been changed to protect the not-so-innocent me. Who knows what might happen the next time I am feeling desperate in the cemetery?
Oh how I know that feeling.
ReplyDeleteTemptaaaaaation.... ;o)
ReplyDeleteI often 'ask' for help when trying to locate something hidden and I receive it most of the time............
ReplyDeleteYou were suffering from the heat. Lol. I don't believe in ghosts per se, but I have had some experiences in the cemetery that can't be explained. They were all positive.
ReplyDelete