Death is a bottle green sea, and the wings of a moth, and the colour of winter strawberries, and driving hard toward fast approaching storms, and the fading scent of roses, and lace against the skin, and the rough voice of crows, and the smooth hide of umbrellas, flailing in the wind, and a voice in the silence, and much more besides. | The Little Book Of Funerals by C S Hughes, Paperback | Indigo Chapters