Today I was lucky enough to have some time with my cousin's wife on her trip through Canada - a trip that's unfortunately in part due to laying some of my cousin's ashes to rest in the places he liked best. It's wonderful to see her - she's really one of the best pieces of my family (and regardless of being so "only" through marriage she is very much my family).
My husband and I talked a bit on the ride home after taking her back to her hotel about ashes and memorials, and suggested to each other places that we'd like the same to be done. No surprise that I chose Ottawa, and Sooke, and New Orleans - but it got me thinking about how we put people to rest, and how there is a part of me that hopes ashes serve as a kind of spiritual tether to allow glimpses back at the favourite places. It makes me feel good, at any rate.
"One Night on the Twentieth Century," by Jay Neal
One of the darker stories in Riding the Rails, this tale by Jay Neal is one of a witness who is now - after many years - speaking for the first time about what he saw of a crime. Political intrigue, hypocrisy, a group of men and women willing to kill to maintain a secret - all of it spins together in a tale that spills darkly from the tongue.
It's and interesting mix to place in an erotica tale, but one that felt like a good fit. Trains - maybe forever linked in my brain to tales such as 'Murder on the Orient Express' - seem like places where darkness can visit too easily.