20180108

Day 1,218

When I went into the fortune teller's tent I'll admit I wasn't thinking that anything they said would be even remotely relevant to me. I just thought it'd be a laugh, you know the whole "you will meet a handsome stranger" spiel and then I'd carry on as usual.

They didn't even say hello, they just looked me dead in the eye and said "There are bones in the ground that cry for you." and refused to say anything else. I was escorted (rather forcefully by a clown who'd been hiding behind the backdrop curtain) the moment they'd said that and left to my own devices.

At first nothing happened, I was a little freaked out and confused but I just couldn't think what they'd meant by that. Bones that cry out for me? I mean, I had a few old hamsters buried in the back yard but that hardly warrants some spooky warning.

I didn't hear them until last week and didn't see them until last night when I was driving home from work. Normally I have to swap busses between my village and the next to another bus that takes me into the city. It's one of those half-scenic-half-creepy places that all depend on the weather to shift the atmosphere. That and the derelict church just over the road. That never stops being a little disconcerting.

Last week I began to hear whispers coming from the church that almost sounded like my family. Over the next few days I began to realise that somehow the conversations I'd been having at home were now being repeated by an unseen recorder (at least, I hoped it was a recorder).

Last night I was at the usual return stop just down the road from the church when the whispering started up again. It was louder than it had previously been. almost didn't spot them, the way they were crouched down in the grass like that but it was the faintly wooden clanking of their exposed bones that drew my attention.

I just hope they can't follow me home.

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