Eternity in a Plain of Sand

100 Words of Speculation written over a background of fountain pen and printed text

Samhain, All Hallows Eve, Halloween. Names change, but the image of the dead dancing endured.

And we did. Not a macabre dance but dance nevertheless. Because the gates opened for those who’d fulfilled their final task, accepted loved ones would survive without them, realised they deserved release.

But the key was always the living. We need you to help, to warn, to watch.

Bombs fell and kept falling, turning you into us. Your bunker is all that remains. You do not know it yet, but your filter has failed. You will not stay the year.

But we will remain. Forever.

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