In terms of comfort, gravestones lacked a certain something. Narrow slabs of cold stone didn’t provide much besides a numb ass, no matter how one sat upon them. Plus, immediately beneath lay a dead body, ready to pop up and grab an ankle.
Matheus raised his feet and examined the ground for disturbances in the snow. At this point, zombies hardly seemed unreasonable. Considering the current state of his life, a zombie attack might actually improve matters. Matheus shifted, trying to work some of the feeling back into his legs. He’d gone into the crypt for a while, but decided he much preferred his coffins underground and out of sight.
For the next hour, he’d wandered around the cemetery, before taking up residence on the final monument to Mrs. Olivia Rathbone, dates unreadable, Death is not a foe, but an inevitable adventure. Matheus tried not to take the epitaph as indication toward zombiehood. He kept his feet up, and pretended not to stare at the overdramatic gates. The fact that the grave offered a clear view of the entrance while being somewhat hidden from the street had no bearing whatsoever on his choice of seats. Matheus just happened to find the idea of someone’s family including the Mrs. on a tombstone charming. Nothing else. He cast a quick glance at the empty street, then scowled down at his feet.