jajafilm

L passed through the gate of the cemetery. In his right hand he held a bucket containing a rag, broom with a shovel, a wreath and a candle. The grip was uncomfortable and unconventional for him with the whole palm. Watari wasn't with him this time, and the objects together were too heavy for him to hold lightly with just a few fingers. He followed the asphalt road through several alleys before stopping at his destination. As he correctly expected, there was a pile of leaves on the grave, and in a vase next to the lantern were lying the withered flowers, which he had brought by a paid service here three months ago. He sighed and began to clean up the mess. It was a tradition, an annual Halloween ritual where no matter what crimes he was solving, how serious and where, he would come and take care of the fall mess himself and reminisce. A visit that tore his heart to pieces. The leaves were wet and already rotting. When he's done here, he'll have to change at the hotel. He got dirty his