A rainy day in Mobile. Magnolia Cemetery. Cold. Windy. Wet.
Large monuments to the deceased stood silent vigil over the bones of the long dead. Creeping life darkened the stone angels, slowly decaying their beauty. They will not survive eternally. They crumble like the bones they guard. The people who commissioned these monuments to themselves might just have well spent the money on Mardi Gras. Many of the living in this city appeared to be preparing to do just that, if the purple, gold and green decorations are any indication.
