The night air hangs heavy, thick with a promise it has no intention of keeping. Come closer. Let us walk toward the edge of town, where the fog gathers like a shroud. You can see them, can’t you? Flickering lanterns casting long, skeletal shadows across the field. Their weak, golden glow catches on the billowing stripes of crimson and indigo canvas. And if you listen… really listen… you can hea...
