Where to, everybody, where to?

I have the perverse habit, or morbid curiosity if you like, to read obituaries. They are our dead, found each day on the back page of the newspaper. There they are, all gathered, a squad of fresh explorers, heading into the great unknown. New faces, names and personal histories come and go on the obits every single day. Unlike a cemetery, where stones never change, the obits get restocked daily. They remind me of the evanescent quality and fleeting image of our lives. A minute browsing through the obits can be just as educational, if not more, than a visit to the church or local cemetery. Where to, everybody, where to?

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