“Another one of those strange photos in a
Paris cemetery.”
“I didn’t see her when I took the photo, really not. I was just so disappointed that someone removed Jim Morrison’s head from his grave again and I snapped to show I had been there and seen it. She looks strange, all dressed in black, with a black hat and her figure is almost a little transparent with some strange ghostly outlines. She might not be real, a ghostly tribute. Perhaps she was one of his departed groupies calling in to see the grave.”
“Your imagination is running away with you, again. The markings on the photo are just a figment of light.. Perhaps she had stolen the head the day before and wanted to check to see if it had been missed. I am sure she had put some flowers on the grave. I knew it. If I let you loose in a graveyard, especially when it is populated with the well-known dead, you know no borders. You are taking photos all over the place. I don’t even remember that you were or are a fan of Jim Morrison; another addition to the collection of grave pictures. You have the most depressing collection of photos sometimes.”
“They are interesting; you just do not have the sense of creative death. Now when I am gone I want my web address on the stone, and you can keep the website going. People will tune in to my famous blogs and I will have a memorable place in the Internet world, preserved for all to see.”
“You can be really morbid sometimes. And what if I go first, then there will be no “www” inscription.”
“Of course there will. I will deposit it my wish at the lawyers.”
“We have no lawyer.”
“OK, then I will pass it on to the next of kin with a notice.”
“I thought you wanted a cremation and the ashes scattered in the river.”
“I am still thinking about that one. Perhaps I might, and write an Internet obituary to be released on the occasion of my demise and you can throw the ashes in the river all the same. Save a bit of money and who needs a gravestone? And what is this all about. I just happened to take a chance photo of a lady in the background of Jim Morrison`s grave: a fluke. She was probably only there on the way to her husband’s grave, all dressed in black. They might have only buried him a few days ago and she is still in mourning.”
“You think so. I thought they only buried famous people in that cemetary.”
“Perhaps her other half was a famous philosopher, writer, musician or something like that. You know what, return to your nice bench in the sun and read the newspaper or the Guide to Paris Monuments.”
“I do not have a guide to Paris or the monuments, only the book about the famous dead of Paris, or how to find a famous grave. It was the only book about Paris you bothered to buy. I will take a nap on the bench and let you hop around between the graves. Look! It’s that lady again from the Jim Morrison grave. She is leaving the cemetery and just put some money in the box belonging to those musicians outside the cemetery. Perhaps she was a groupie.”
“Who knows, this is interesting. So stand up.”
“What for?”
“We are leaving the cemetery. I have all I need for today. Simon Signoret and Yves Montand are in the camera together with Serge Gainsboro. Let’s see where she is going.”
“I didn’t see her when I took the photo, really not. I was just so disappointed that someone removed Jim Morrison’s head from his grave again and I snapped to show I had been there and seen it. She looks strange, all dressed in black, with a black hat and her figure is almost a little transparent with some strange ghostly outlines. She might not be real, a ghostly tribute. Perhaps she was one of his departed groupies calling in to see the grave.”
“Your imagination is running away with you, again. The markings on the photo are just a figment of light.. Perhaps she had stolen the head the day before and wanted to check to see if it had been missed. I am sure she had put some flowers on the grave. I knew it. If I let you loose in a graveyard, especially when it is populated with the well-known dead, you know no borders. You are taking photos all over the place. I don’t even remember that you were or are a fan of Jim Morrison; another addition to the collection of grave pictures. You have the most depressing collection of photos sometimes.”
“They are interesting; you just do not have the sense of creative death. Now when I am gone I want my web address on the stone, and you can keep the website going. People will tune in to my famous blogs and I will have a memorable place in the Internet world, preserved for all to see.”
“You can be really morbid sometimes. And what if I go first, then there will be no “www” inscription.”
“Of course there will. I will deposit it my wish at the lawyers.”
“We have no lawyer.”
“OK, then I will pass it on to the next of kin with a notice.”
“I thought you wanted a cremation and the ashes scattered in the river.”
“I am still thinking about that one. Perhaps I might, and write an Internet obituary to be released on the occasion of my demise and you can throw the ashes in the river all the same. Save a bit of money and who needs a gravestone? And what is this all about. I just happened to take a chance photo of a lady in the background of Jim Morrison`s grave: a fluke. She was probably only there on the way to her husband’s grave, all dressed in black. They might have only buried him a few days ago and she is still in mourning.”
“You think so. I thought they only buried famous people in that cemetary.”
“Perhaps her other half was a famous philosopher, writer, musician or something like that. You know what, return to your nice bench in the sun and read the newspaper or the Guide to Paris Monuments.”
“I do not have a guide to Paris or the monuments, only the book about the famous dead of Paris, or how to find a famous grave. It was the only book about Paris you bothered to buy. I will take a nap on the bench and let you hop around between the graves. Look! It’s that lady again from the Jim Morrison grave. She is leaving the cemetery and just put some money in the box belonging to those musicians outside the cemetery. Perhaps she was a groupie.”
“Who knows, this is interesting. So stand up.”
“What for?”
“We are leaving the cemetery. I have all I need for today. Simon Signoret and Yves Montand are in the camera together with Serge Gainsboro. Let’s see where she is going.”
Très effrayant!! :-))
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