::EPIGRAPH:: MY DEC 2009
There are places in the valley that I will never go again; there are paths up its glens where I will never direct my pony's steps. The faces, the voices, the names meet me there and they do not go away. Regularly, of course, I must cross the path through the graveyard to the kirk, where those names are chiselled into the stone. But the spirits do not lie there; for me, they do not lie there. They are the restless ghosts- those who loved- wrongly, willfully, with passion, without reason. They all wait for me everywhere in that valley, but especially in some places, to which I do not go.- Gaskin
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I was walking away when he called
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