Young Loomis and I decided to secure the Celtic Craven’s corpse in the family mausoleum, and in doing so, I was lost in nostalgia for my late and beloved family.  This area, I’m told, came under attack during a war at some point and the mausoleum was repaired by those who had neither the time nor inclination to ensure that the dates were accurately marked on the stones.

They have been gone for so long and yet it was, in some ways, only months ago.

I miss them.  I miss them dearly.

This home is too empty.  This heart is too empty.  And both have an excess of room.

Were I only able to fill them to excess.


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