The Graveyard

The mist twists and tangles around my ankles. The cold nipping at my bare skin. It's a dark night, the grey clouds are thick and plentiful, giving the moon little chance to light the night's sky. I pull out my phone and use its torch to light my path.

The gate groans as I push it open. The iron cold beneath my hand. The hair on the back of my neck stands on end and my breathing becomes shallow.

The gateway to the graveyard is silent, completely silent and still. Like the outside world as no real affect on what happens here.

I take a deep breath and enter. I can hear the voices from times gone by, the rich folk and commoners deep in conversation together by the rose bushes. I can hear children playing hide and seek, laughing and calling out to one another. I see couples and friends walking and laughing together. I hear owls hooting and watch cats as they jump and leap through the flowerbeds, chasing mice.

I slow my pace as I pull out the piece of paper upon which has the name of the spirit I'm looking for and the questions I am to ask them.

Once I have read the paper I quicken my pace once more, navigating my way around the graves. I enter the modern graveyard through the gap in ...

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Lily Larkin
May 25 2020

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Spooky and sinister.

Rod Webb
May 27 2020