This morning I took my wife to work. Traffic, as usual, was very busy and it was more of a stop-and-go arrangement rather than a swift and decisive drive.

The last part of the journey took us past a cemetery to our left. It is beautiful, small and recessed headstones, luscious lawns, well kept small hedges and a blue sky and sparkling sunlight to boot.

That was on our left.

On our right we see the legions emerging from the underground railway station into the blinding light. They assemble into shambling cohorts and trudge along miserably, already knowing the shape and circumstance of their day. No joy, no surprises there.

It seems odd that the near living should be in a position to envy the finitely dead. I look left again and think that I would probably prefer to bask in the sun – even under the lawn.

It is clear that most of the undead on the right in their pale imitation of life think similar thoughts if they are still able to.

Where did we go so wrong?