Welcome to Weirdsville: Never Forget - by M. Christian

[Eeegor]

Trumpeting -- though no one alive can hear her; thundering down the shimmering vanishing point of the old steel rails -- though no one living can feel her massing footfalls; her massive ectoplasmic essence prowls the afterlife tundra of the railway yards -- maybe she tries to pull the living, so inaccessible, weeds that struggle through the creosote stained ties, between the fissures of cracked concrete; maybe she tries to bathe in the town reservoir, though the water flows through her ghostly form.

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