Here come the graveyard groupies

Look out you might see them, scuttling down your street, patting the neighbour’s dog, nodding to people they meet. They lurk on hospital corridors, wearing their black shiny shoes, then scour obituary columns, for all their latest news. They follow people on stretchers, to sickbeds, funerals, and wakes, asking for extra cups of tea, turning their nose up at cake. They might just take an interest, if you should start to feel ill, checking on your temperature, your welfare and your will. So, keep your curtains closed tonight, lock all your windows and doors, the graveyard groupies are coming, it’s you they’re looking for…