She felt as if the grave stones were whispering those names to her as she walked past… Those stones that bore no names seemed like closed mouths, sad mouths that forgotten how to speak. But perhaps the dead didn’t mind what their names had once been?

She felt as if the grave stones were whispering those names to her as she walked past… Those stones that bore no names seemed like closed mouths, sad mouths that forgotten how to speak. But perhaps the dead didn’t mind what their names had once been?

– Cornelia Funke –

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