20151210

Day 584

I stumbled upon a new church accidentally.
That is to say I'd never been there before, the church itself looked ancient.
The roof had once been thatched but was now coated in moss, daisies and bird droppings.
Everything about the largish building screamed very old, even the bricks were old Roman Red.
Probably taken from one of the temples that used to be around back in their heyday.

It was surrounded by large middle-class homes, all pastel colours and three stories tall.
They clashed badly with the fairytale-esque parish in all its moss-strewn perfection.
After further inspection of the grounds, ignoring the tacky homes outside, I found something... odd.
Every grave had the death date as December 8th 1648.
Now that I've looked it up I know that it's 300 years exactly from England's first cases of the Plague.

Strange though, how it seems an entire community within our own had been wiped out in one day.
I counted sixty-two graves, people of all ages and classes (judging by the size of the memorials).
Nothing existed in the history books to suggest a spontaneous series of deaths.
Perhaps the Plague had come back and these people were slaughtered all at once as a precaution?
Someone was responsible for erasing this event and these people from history, but why?

I've been trying to go back to there and speak with the local Vicar but I can't find it now.
No matter how many times I retrace my footsteps I come to dead ends and looped roads.
It's almost like I dreamt the whole thing but for the photos I took of graves and the parish itself.
Even those are dead ends - none of them have any living descendants that I can trace at all.
I find myself at an end with this, I have nothing more to find but perhaps... you do?

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