Description
On my way back from PA by way of West Virginia, I found myself stopped at a giant memorial cemetery. I've always been drawn to cemeteries, mostly to the statues (which I'm even more drawn to). Within this cemetery, I found a building off to the side that was completely empty. I can still remember how oldy warm it was in there, yet what I remember more is how quiet it was. Being in a setting like this made me think of my grandma, which isn't hard for me to think of; she pops into my head every day effortlessly. But it was because of how quiet it was. quiet enough to hear a pen drop.