"I lift my eyes to the distant moon that shines over our earthly sphere. I stare around at the field in front of me, the seven-branched candlelabraum etched over the archway, the dark gray stones ranked together in rows, the brambles that have overgrown this secret shadowed place.
This is the closest I will ever come to finding my people.
It is the last graveyard of my people in London."
— from the novel Sinful Folk