MURMURS FROM THE GRAVEYARD

A chill wind moaned through the ancient oaks that encircled the graveyard. The wan moonlight soaked the crumbling headstones in an eerie light. Footsteps echoed softly on the wet earth, sending vibrations down my nerves. I leaned closer to the weathered inscription on a nearby grave. Was it possible? The copyright seemed to pulsate before my eyes,