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  • "You have to go to the cemetery, it's quite the tourist attraction."

    "I'm sorry what?" I asked as my full attention came back to the conversation. "That sounds like a bit of an oxymoron."

    "Just check it out."

    "Right."

    Cemeteries don't bother me. I think it has something to do with first grade - our school was directly next to one. We knew not to play in it, we saw burials at recess on occasion, but it didn't upset any of us. For some reason there were no uneasy feelings attached to this particular cemetery. We did however, hold our breath - it was a must in first grade culture. On the bus whenever we passed a cemetery you had.to.hold.your.breath. It was a bit unfortunate when we got stuck in traffic in front of one - in fact I think it's safe to say many a first grader probably sustained long-term injuries from that little stunt. But that's the extent of my knowledge of cemeteries.

    So on a fall day, with a *rare* open afternoon, I ventured out by myself.

    I was not the only visitor. And actually had the misfortune of running into a :cough: very amorous couple. Odd location choice for intimacy, yes?

    But I wandered aimlessly through neatly marked paths, along ponds and over bridges - reading headstones from two centuries ago, and marveling at all the last names I'd never heard of: Zwells, Trull, Drinkwater, Smallcock (tough break) and so on.

    Finally I came to a tower. Placed on a steep hill, it looked more like Rapunzel's castle than a structure in the land of the deceased. But I entered and bounded up the spiraling staircase to discover one of the best views of the city at the top. Although the familiar sinking feeling emerged in the pit of my stomach, effectively reminding me of my unfortunate fear of heights, I enjoyed the scene.

    What a view. I took it in until my stomach told me it'd had enough, and clamored down to safety.

    Well I'll be - the cemetery tourist attraction. I should bring friends next time.
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