20190831

Day 1,820

We leave windchimes in the graveyard to sing the dead to sleep when wind and storms might wake them up. All the sermons are held in sign language - even the hymns aren't said aloud just in case dead ears are especially sensitive that day.

We make bury them face down in their coffins in case they try to dig their way up. Better to let them exhaust themselves nine or ten feet down in the dirt than try to corral them back in after days of tracking down the trail of chaos and viscera they'd leave in their wake.

We set locked gates at random around the place to confuse them if they ever get out. Even in death they still have old habits ingrained into them like having to unlock a door to use it but for the most part they manage to stumble around the gates and out into the world.

As the old saying goes - ain't nothing so stubborn as the bloody dead.

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