Novena for the Dead
by Narcís Oller
"I found myself in the grips of an obsession: death, death, death. All of the dead in my family were turning up in my thoughts. My good grandfather, my little brother, an old maid whose body I had seen lain out—they reappeared before my eyes, lying on black biers, as pale as wax, with sunken eyes, turned to stone in the impressive state of eternal slumber."