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Time is the invisible thing that makes life worth living.  The large typeset font standing out almost black against the aged marble headstone drew Len forward in the cold misty morning.  Len liked his mornings quiet and calm so unlike many of his friends he strolled through cemeteries rather than pound pavement.  To him these were just thoughtful places with an eery beauty.  As none of his family had ever ventured this far West Len didn’t even make a habit of scanning the stones, but those words had more than just caught his attention they had pulled him off the gravel path.  So standing before the stone with wet shoes and damp socks Len read the sentence again before walking around to see the name Alden Paxt.

Alden Paxt, as it turned out, had died 89 years young in the year 1927. Len looked the stone over somehow unsatisfied. Then it dawned on him, the epitaph.  There was no line honoring Alden as a loving husband, a caring father, or a cherished friend. Immediately Len envisioned a funeral empty except for the priest and grave diggers, and without ever knowing this man his heart broke for Alden. Then confusion set in; what kind of man plans a funeral, buys a stone, engraves that sentence, and then forgets to leave someone behind to care that he is gone?

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With only a small amount of difficulty Len managed to find the grounds keeper and convince him to check the files for any information about Alden or his headstone. The scowling grounds keeper came back from his office file in hand brow even more furrowed.

“It’s just a stone guy.”

“What?”

“No one is buried there lot number 803 is empty.” Len’s mouth hung at a rakish angle as the man continued. “Yah…that’s what it says.”

“But the stone?”

“Oh that?  Nice line right? Yah, it was commissioned…back in October of ’42 same day the lot was purchased.” The grounds keeper looked up as he shut the file.

“You mean to tell me that a stone and lot were purchased in 1942 for a man who died in ’27?”

“That’s what the file says guy.” With a shrug the man walked back towards his mower pocketing the folded manilla folder.

“Thanks,” was all Len managed as a response.

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I hope you enjoyed this post part 2 will be up tomorrow.  Comment or like I adore feedback 🙂

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