The bullet they just dug out of the wall is from a handgun. A kill shot over that distance, from that kind of a weapon…
Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning’s hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there. I did not die.S T op
(Source: sherleck)
Jim Moriarty returns and wants to play a new game. With Hamish.