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Mourning Routinecold winter morning faces yawning rubbing weary eyes wipe away sleep gather like sheepMourning Routine
waiting…
…
finally sound is heard, necks start to twist lights in the distance emerge through the mist
undead horde climbs aboard sitting in queues silence ensues
mumbling and grumbling nothing too loud to disturb the crowd
of zombies with places to go. somebody coughs a few heads turn but quickly return to paper or book or else simply look
blankly, into the dista
by ~kyoo-san
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