Something was watching as we began to leave the cemetery. I don’t know for sure. It was more of a feeling – a paranoia than a certainty, a black space from between the trees and between the gravestones. There are foxes abound in there now, they are becoming tamer, as if nothing matters anymore, or they have nothing left to fear. That night, the dinner and the drinks, was very much a reunion. I wanted to go to a club with the others, but I’m getting too old for this sort of thing. So I went home and felt ill instead.