“The movie will begin in five moments,
The mindless voice announced,
All those unseated will await the next show.”

The cemetery, and all that makes it, is an unfortunate excuse for a tourist destination more than the repository of Jim’s body or soul, or that of Wilde or any of the others for that matter. If there is one place in the world I would not like to be buried, it is at the Cimetière du Père Lachaise. Scatter my ashes off La Pointe du Raz any day. I am sure now, that his soul is not here… perhaps, even less is. And yet, one must go, to know that.

Perhaps a full moon night at the cemetery must be stolen and an offering of a different nature made to evoke what one cannot recognise by day… behind the iron fencing, the worn album cover, the withering dandelions and the watchful gaze of the uniformed Sûreté.