[ OT ] Sunday Free Write : Leave A Story , Leave A Comment - End of Camelot Edition

Hello all. Back for week eleven of posting, who knew it would turn into such a fun weekly event for me! Since I pretty much only post on Sundays, allow me to wish all the Americans a very happy Thanksgiving and everyone a very happy week. As per usual, any feedback or criticism is greatly appreciated on this week's story. Keep writing! 
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 * [ WP ] Today, you visit a grave... REALITY FICTION* 
 
 It was dark gray all around. The sky was gray, the clouds were gray, the stone in front of me and all around was gray. My body too felt gray, from my thoughts to my motions, consumed in an endless fog cloud, swirling in and around my mind, wrapping my arms and throwing my general spirits into disarray. 
 
 The stone before me was blank. An unmarked canvas to hold the final words of man, the final wisdom of he who lays here. The gray marble seemed to have some ultimate depth, the powerful perception of man searching it for final truths of everything, from life, to death. The slab beckoned for the chisel, screaming at faces, what is it here you shall find? 
 
 Even the wind felt gray, as it rushed through my jacket and the clothes I wore underneath. I could feel it in my bones, which even now felt like they were turning to gray ash. I hate cemeteries, I can feel myself dying with each second I spend in their midst. I decided to leave as soon as I could, yet I still stayed a few more minutes, just staring down at the large slab of rock. 
 
 I think for a second time stood still. As I stared into the rock, I could see everything, and yet I wasn ’ t sure just what I was looking at. There were no pictures, no memories, no futures hidden in the stone, only emotion, how I have ever felt and how I will ever feel for the rest of my time. After a minute or two, I blinked back into the moment, and turned to leave. As I was leaving, I turned to look back, and I stopped to speak to the stone. 
 
 “ Until we meet again old friend. ” I said calmly, before stumbling away from my grave, dragging my IV drip with me, jacket and hospital gown blowing in the wind.
