petition to make Americans google “euro” before writing fic
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if you would all like to cry a little more today, but also have a reminder that people have always been people, and we connect to those who came before us even if we did not know them
in glasgow necropolis, there is a gravestone. it is very small and unassuming. in fact, it's very easy to overlook because if you walked past it it would not even come up to your knees and it peeks out of the surrounding foliage
there is no date of birth, nor date of death.
it is the grave of a child. her name was "Wee Bessie" Wilson. she lived, and then died aged just 2 1/2, sometime in the victorian era (from the age of the stone, and the fact the necropolis is largely a victorian burial ground)
nobody knows who she was, anymore. but 150-200 years later people leave flowers, toys, brightly coloured pinwheels, teddy bears, or seashells on it as they pass
bessie is gone. everybody who knew bessie is gone. the people who knew the people who knew bessie are gone. but she was 2 1/2 years old and goddamnit she's going to have a brightly coloured pinwheel or a teddybear or a pretty seashell
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