in the house of dust and darkness
I remember when the afterlife was just a small house at the end of the village that we used to fill up with bones. Then we had the plague and the house got too full. The ghosts started knocking on the doors and windows, asking to be let out. We were lonely, I'll admit it, and so we let them out. For a while we all lived happily together, but eventually they felt that the village was not enough so they built first a town, then a city, then a country, and then finally an empire. They conquered it all. Now the world is full of neon and asphalt, fast food and TV, wheels and walls. All the people are dead, though they've forgotten that now, and I sit alone in the House of Dust and Darkness, counting the bones.
