It was evening and the ghosts were gathered there.
Ghosts are called by a longing for the shadows of thier past,and a mountain made of memory holds these
shadows fast.
Memories are not simple things,they are complicated
things,and within a heart of a ghost,a memory can
become another's dream.These dreams are most important as time passes,the dream becomes a reality
and the ghost won't last.
These ghosts will march one last time.They will not come with muffled drums,nor shuffling feet,but as they were,to take thier final seat.
Until the last ghost marches in,there will be ghosts
upon the street.
