Remember the dead

John hates his job as a night guard in a cemetery. It’s boring and the hours are long. On this night, John was particularly bored because he didn’t charge his mp3 player before he left, and the silence made each minute drag longer and longer.

At about 11:30 at night, John started one of his rounds. He began to make his trip across the graveyard when he noticed something peculiar in the distance, something moving. John pulled out his flashlight and pointed that direction. There was an old woman in a tattered robe standing at the other end of a row of tombstones.
John was scared and he didn’t know why. She could have been a homeless lady or a grave robber, but something told John she was neither. He tried to run and suddenly realized he was stuck, he couldn’t move. The woman glided toward him quickly, and soon she was standing right in front of him. She was hideous looking. She reached in her pocket, pulled out a handful of dust and threw it in Johns face.
“Remember the Dead.” She said, and vanished.

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