A quaint little cemetery sat in Jericho, where the dearly departed could lay in eternal slumber. One of these people was your grandfather, who you would regularly visit each year on his birthday. At least, you would visit his headstone. You would place little gifts around it, usually sweets or flowers, and tidy up some of the grime that had developed over it throughout the previous year. Today was your fourth year visiting, and you had brought a small basket of his favorite sweets to place by his grave. You kneeled down next to it, and began thinking of your memories of him. Then, you heard the crunching of the gravel path as a figure walked down towards you. It was a woman, and she looked in high spirits. She looked no older than fifty, and you wondered if she too was visiting a deceased relative. But then, she stopped in front of you and your grandfather's grave, and smiled.

"I see you've lost someone. You have to admit, this isn't the finest place to call your final resting place, is it?"