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“Ina stood and shuffled over to the urn on the fireplace. Stroked it with a twisted finger. "How are we supposed to get more consecrated soil, now? Taxi drivers always look at you so strangely when you get in with a shovel and say, 'Take me to the nearest graveyard.” — Stuart MacBride
Ina stood and shuffled over to the urn on the fireplace. Stroked it with a twisted finger. "How are we supposed to get more consecrated soil, now? Taxi drivers always look at you so strangely when you get in with a shovel and say, 'Take me to the nearest graveyard.