We, the dead, make a stand.
Standards are standards; they do not distinguish between the quick and the buried – we all must tend our patch.
Our churchyard caters for a certain vintage of clientele. We have all been present and correct for some time – most of our headstones are stacked alongside our graves or against weathered tombs. Too many storms and too much Scottish rain has seen the local authority deem our slabs unsafe.
Stacked, chipped, worn, we nevertheless retain our dignity. There are no ‘Dear Mum’ stones amongst our yew-strewn grass, no black, polished granite underneath the whispering leaves and the sombre church spire. God forbid (no, really, do forbid) any white chipping around the sides of memorials.
Our voices are in our solemnity, not in brash, tasteless ostentation. Dates, names, perhaps the most perfunctory of platitudes – these are the entries in our ledger of death and life. These are all the more powerful for the liminal spaces between the entries, where people can breathe once more, their lives made new by memory and imagination. The uncrowded word speaks the loudest.
We have and will continue to age with our church. Snap your wedding photos elsewhere. Move your influencer pictures away from our trembling fir branches and our creeping ivy. This place is full, its church and graveyard clasped together in the cold, dry embrace of quiet and death.
*Thanks for reading, folks. Image courtesy of drookitagain. My recent short stories include ‘Little Daily Miracles‘ and ‘Those Abroad‘.
Matthew Richardson is a writer of short stories. His work has featured in Gold Dust magazine, Literally Stories, Close to the Bone, McStorytellers, Penny Shorts, Soft Cartel, Whatever Keeps the Lights On, Flashback Fiction, Cafelit, Best MicroFiction 2021, Writer’s Egg, Idle Ink, The Wild Word, and Shooter magazine. He is a doctoral student at the University of Dundee, a lucky husband, and a proud father. He blogs at www.matthewjrichardson.com and tweets at https://twitter.com/mjrichardso0.
Matthew Richardson 
“The uncrowded word speaks the loudest.”
This could be your byline, Matthew. 🤗
I believe it was the American humorist and author, Josh Billings, who said, “Words are powerful, so long as you don’t hitch too many of them together.”
You do a fine job of this!
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Thanks David. I think every word needs to earn its place!
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I’ve aways liked a graveyard. So peaceful and interesting.
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This one certainly is, Chris. A proper old graveyard just down the hill from where I live. Gorgeous (and not at all snobbish as in the story!).
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Your graceful, eloquent empathy knows no bounds, Matthew.
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Thanks as always. Wasn’t quite sure where this one was going at first!
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When I saw the Halloween category, I prepared myself for something spooky. Apparently, you fooled yourself—and then us!
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I love the voice of the narrator, its all inclusive dignity, its ‘civic’ pride in the congregation of the dead, to not be diminished or demeaned by snap-hungry crowds; and that marvellous phrase, could almost be a ‘saying’: ‘The uncrowded word speaks the loudest’ —
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Thanks John. It’s a lovely little graveyard not too far from me, and very olde worlde!
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you did it proud, Matthew 🙂 it’s a gift to summon place —
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I love this. I’m a graveyard fan and enjoy exploring any one I come across. You gave this location such personality so well written, very vivid!
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