Day 2,203

It's alway cold when the herd walk by, not that you can really notice them walking... not unless they're in direct sunlight and even then only if you happen to glance down at the pavement from the right angle and see their shadows moving across the concrete. Hard to see but the sharp drop in temperature is felt by everyone when they pass by.

We don't know what happened to the herd to keep them stuck fast to their route like this. We've only come to terms with their existence fairly recently - about forty five years, give or take a few. The whole area's well known farming grounds and their route takes them through streets that used to be grazing pastures so we've solved that side of it.

Still, we don't know what traumatic event could possibly be keeping them here. We only ever see their shadows, their spirits, never the shepherds. For all we know there's one with them, unseen to our eyes just like the bodies of the herd. Maybe humans can't see human ghost at all, just animal ones.

Their bodies show up on thermal scans - deep purplish blues against the oranges and reds of a summer's afternoon. They might have frozen to death one winter, we reckoned, midway between their home and the pastures and maybe they don't even realise it.

After all, what is a ghost but a series of habits that don't know when to stop?