As more victims from the slaughter of 20 children and six adults were laid to rest, long funeral processions clogged the streets of Newtown …
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They walked out together into the fine fall day, scuffling bright ragged leaves under their feet, turning their faces up to a generous sky really blue and spotless. At the first corner they waited for a funeral to pass, the mourners seated straight and firm as if proud in their sorrow. […] “It seems to be a plague,” said Miranda, “something out of the Middle Ages. Did you ever see so many funerals, ever?”
Katherine Anne Porter, “Pale Horse, Pale Rider”