Grave Gifts
James Coleman strolled through the rows of headstones, reading the names etched on each one and admiring the bundles of flowers adorning the graves. Tributes to the deceased. But all the flowers were fake. Fake flowers for people that were once very real. Just one more thing that perplexed James. Since the first time he’d seen his aunt’s ghost at her funeral many years ago, James had been fascinated with the concept of cemeteries. Plots of land set aside for mass remembrance of those that had passed on to the life hereafter, whatever that may be. But James knew that even after someone passed over the veil, they could see what happened here in the land of the living; the dead could cross the veil, and only a handful of the billions of living people could see them. James was one of those few.