We've come into the land of where the dead come to rest and where nothing is around to disturb them.
Nothing can be heard except for the soft wind blowing and the leaves rustling against each other.
Occasionally, unburnt pieces from the offering papers blow across in front of you, indicating that possibly moments ago, another quiet family like your own came by to pay their respects.
As you walk past grave upon grave, their ornate coloring betray the grimness of their purpose. And yet there is something about the black and white portrait photos on the headstones which remind you that these graves were built in a different time and yet they somehow show no signs of aging.
The story of this broken grave is unclear but the opened coffin which is unceremoniously tossed to one side seem to indicate a grave robbery. I only went close enough to see lumps of matter of uncertain material lying within the coffin slightly hoping that I wouldn't see a skeleton.
Not wanting to have it burnt into my mind that a deceased person was disrespectfully grave robbed and tossed aside, I silently stepped away from the grave.
