It’s Not Grave Robbing If You Only Steal the Flowers
The cemetery was surprisingly well-tended. There were a lot of Crowley names on the headstones, and the weeds were confined to the bordering field. Little vases on most of the graves held artificial flowers, pinwheels, and other memorials. A light breeze spun some of the little pinwheels slowly, cooling the late fall sunshine. Hansel started down a row of graves from the early 1900s, reading the names aloud. He realized the monster wasn’t paying attention.
Grendel was a few rows away, grabbing the artificial flowers out of the vases and stuffing them in his pack.
“Oh my god, what are you doing?” Hansel yelped. With no one to remind him about his language, he was sliding toward perdition and frankly did not care.
“Look at these!” Grendel held out some bright pink forget-me-nots with glittery edges. “They’re amazing. Imagine these…
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