Day 1,042

The dead don't always know that they've died and it makes for an awkward conversation when the other party is slowly being consumed by a fire whose heat you can't feel and neither can they, judging by their utter lack of a reaction. Still they seem decent enough and once obligatory pleasantries are exchanged you can make excuses to get as far from them as possible.

It doesn't stop there though. Even aboard a plane someone may appear in the empty seat beside you, their body an absolute wreck and half smothered by the bloodied remains of a parachute. From their uniform you can tell they've been dead for over seventy years which is backed up when they talk about the the blitz like it's still happening, and for them it is. They leave just before you land, slowly sinking through the floor trailed by the parachute. You see the huge tear running through it as they look up at you one last time.

Even in the woods (especially the older ones) the dead cling to life and generally make a nuisance of themselves by bothering the living who just want to go on a nice, scenic walk without stumbling upon the remains of some poor old woman who was hung for being a witch ("Allegedly!" they always yell). Sometimes they gather in the clearings to converse with people they once knew or who were at least from around the same time as them.

It's all rather disconcerting, to say the least.