When I was still quite young I found a dead worm on the paving stones of our garden. Feeling sad that the poor thing didn't even manage to die in the earth where it usually lives, I decided to bury it. Later on in the day, or perhaps it was the day after, and for some reason I can't quite remember, I decided to have a look at the worm and see if it was still there. It had disappeared. I still feel somewhat cheated out of a presumably unnecessary burial.
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