I’m the last caretaker of a few hungry ghosts; they may be ancestral, or I somehow, at some point, drew their attention as a host.
A confederate solider, a rapist, an unrighteous thief. There have been others, though their time in my care more brief.
My goal is to not pass them on, the mission, to take them home with me.
Out past the campfires, at the edge of the infinite, returning to the endless We.
© EschatonLife