note #114

to walk with the dead is to walk on the path of the unknown gods, the voice whispered in the wind. the procession walked slowly and silently through the waving grasses, their lanterns swinging with their steps. the glow from the lanterns swayed and danced upon the nighttime traveler's faces and slid across the sleeping world. veils and clothing fluttered in the breeze, the sweet scent of the sun-baked earth and grasses carried along it. the procession snaked across the landscape, a troupe of all sizes with faces both animal and human. the light wavered and lanterns slowly began to wink out. a cricket began to chirp.