This whole story started three days ago. I was on the bus, listening to music, when I spotted a black umbrella on one of the empty seats. At first, I hesitated to take it. It may sound strange, but I always feel a little guilty taking something that doesn’t belong to me, even when it’s abandoned. However, it never lasts very long and I end up taking it home. If I don’t get it back, who will? I grabbed it as I got off the bus. It was a bit of a windfall. That day, it was pouring with rain and, like an idiot, I had come without my k-way. As I began to open it, I was surprised to…

Under gravel and twisting roots there lies an intricate system of life, hundreds of sizes smaller than our species. Like pale, empty veins they stretch out to dig downwards into damp soil. It is dark. Darker than sunless skies. The realm underground is the realm of corpses. They settle between debris like shells pushed under sand by careless ocean waves. Deeper, and deeper. While you walk overhead on solid ground, thinking of the casual facets of life, corpses are clawing overhead themselves, grasping those roots and pulling at them with a vengeful desperation to return to life. We never hear their wailing, but the earth’s surface shakes with their conviction. Ghosts are known to protest against going quietly. If they…

This whole story started three days ago. I was on the bus, listening to music, when I spotted a black umbrella on one of the empty seats. At first, I hesitated to take it. It may sound strange, but I always feel a little guilty taking something that doesn’t belong to me, even when it’s abandoned. However, it never lasts very long and I end up taking it home. If I don’t get it back, who will? I grabbed it as I got off the bus. It was a bit of a windfall. That day, it was pouring with rain and, like an idiot, I had come without my k-way. As I began to open it, I was surprised to…

Under gravel and twisting roots there lies an intricate system of life, hundreds of sizes smaller than our species. Like pale, empty veins they stretch out to dig downwards into damp soil. It is dark. Darker than sunless skies. The realm underground is the realm of corpses. They settle between debris like shells pushed under sand by careless ocean waves. Deeper, and deeper. While you walk overhead on solid ground, thinking of the casual facets of life, corpses are clawing overhead themselves, grasping those roots and pulling at them with a vengeful desperation to return to life. We never hear their wailing, but the earth’s surface shakes with their conviction. Ghosts are known to protest against going quietly. If they…

Under gravel and twisting roots there lies an intricate system of life, hundreds of sizes smaller than our species. Like pale, empty veins they stretch out to dig downwards into damp soil. It is dark. Darker than sunless skies. The realm underground is the realm of corpses. They settle between debris like shells pushed under sand by careless ocean waves. Deeper, and deeper. While you walk overhead on solid ground, thinking of the casual facets of life, corpses are clawing overhead themselves, grasping those roots and pulling at them with a vengeful desperation to return to life. We never hear their wailing, but the earth’s surface shakes with their conviction. Ghosts are known to protest against going quietly. If they…

This whole story started three days ago. I was on the bus, listening to music, when I spotted a black umbrella on one of the empty seats. At first, I hesitated to take it. It may sound strange, but I always feel a little guilty taking something that doesn’t belong to me, even when it’s abandoned. However, it never lasts very long and I end up taking it home. If I don’t get it back, who will? I grabbed it as I got off the bus. It was a bit of a windfall. That day, it was pouring with rain and, like an idiot, I had come without my k-way. As I began to open it, I was surprised to…