Being in this place feels wrong. I shouldn’t be here. I never did believe in God or Satan or any of that stuff. Neither is it a fear of zombies rising from their graves. No, it’s none of that. It’s more of a feeling I get when I go in graveyards. Usually it’s nothing more than a persistent tingle radiating through me. Sometimes it’s more.
That doesn’t stop me though. I still come, but never to the same cemetery twice. You see. I’m searching for something. I have been for a very long time. I need to find my body.
Thank you to all of the veterans out there, especially those that may still be wandering around looking for their bodies. I hope you find what you’re looking for.
Written for Friday Fictioneers.
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