That Kind of Day

There will come a time in a few hundred years when some girl or guy will be standing at an office window overlooking the cemetery you lie in. She will not be concentrating on your last and final resting place as your last and final resting place, she will be thinking about how she wishes she could leave work and photograph the stones in the weird light of the day, as she is not sure she will get another opportunity to do it before the weather turns sour again.

She will be looking at the bare trees surrounding you and wondering when the leaves will return t ocast what she is sure will be fascinating shadows on the ground that has been so obviously and badly paved.

Just as her mind turns to the question of who these markers commemorate she will be called away to complete some task or another.

And your body will lie sleeping as your spirit soars in the heavens, safe in the knowledge that there is no beginning and no end.