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The graveyard day watch in years and deep in suspicion, with a face not unlike a weathered toate

A wo up the road, far out, near Santa Monica Boulevard

Thank God, I thought

The watchuraves Just in time, for the woman had stopped and headed off, away from us

We jurabbed some flowers off a nearby mound

“Don’t!”

“Like hell!” Roy stashed the flowers on Grandpa Suy coab Come on!”

Weto talk, but saying little Finally, Roy touched lances Don’t look straight on He’s back”

And indeed the old watch impressions of the fallen body still remained

He looked up and saw us Quickly, I put my arm around Roy’s shoulder to ease his sadness

Now the old rass Soon there was no trace of anything heavy that ht, in a terrible rain

“You believe now?” I said

“I wonder,” said Roy, “where that hearse went to”

9

As ere driving back in through the ate of the studio, the hearse whispered out E autumn wind it drifted off, around, and back to Death’s country