On the edge of the wind swept moors of southern Scotland lies an isolated group
The villages are known for its prime beef and spring lambs.
It is also one of the wettest places on earth.
Where hardly a day goes by that it doesn’t rain.
All of the water flows into the Smyth river that winds among the villages providing
the locals with fish and crabs.
And because of all the rain the river floods every five years or so.
It has been four years since the last flood so an overflow is due.
On the bank of the river is the local cemetery that has served the locals needs since
The rich and the poor are buried beside each other their tombstones point to the sky
to mark their final resting place.
Some of the deceased were village elders while some others were just ordinary folk.
Together they lie in peace and harmony.
But that peace is about to be broken.
All of the villagers are huddled inside beside their fires keeping out of the weather.
It is raining again today just like yesterday and the day before.
In fact it hasn’t stopped raining for twenty days now.
And the river Smyth has turned into a torrent.
In the cemetery the water table is rising rapidly and the coffins are beginning to float.
Slowly inch by inch they are making their way to the surface.
And after a midnight downpour they finally break through.
Where they sparkle under the dark sky.
Still the water level is rising until the river floods the landscape.
The coffins begin to bob and dance in the water.
And then one by one they are all swept away.
The coffins are swept down stream where they side swipe each other and begin
to break apart.
The contents spill into the water and the bones float together in the murky human
Some of the bones are swept away but most somehow make it to the shore.
Where they begin to crawl.
Thousands of bones have reached the bank .
They climb up onto the grass and start to inter mingle searching for the right DNA.
And like a human jigsaw puzzle the bones fall into place.
The bones fuse together into misshapen skeletons and start to stroll towards the villages.
They slowly shuffle forward sniffing the air seeking out their still living ancestors.
It is slow going because a lot of the skeletons are missing arms and legs.
But eventually the bones find the homes of their kin.
And the enter through the walls.
Mary Alcott is still grieving.
Her Mother Kate died from the black lung disease three months ago.
Mary is worn out sad and al alone in the world she can barely function.
Why did her mother have to die?
Mary Alcott hangs her head and starts to weep.
The tears freeze on her cheeks.
A sound is coming from her mothers old bedroom upstairs.
Her mother used to sit in a rocking chair while she did her needlepoint.
Mary’s skips and misses a beat as she rushes up the stairs.
When she opens the bedroom door her mouth gapes open.
While her chin hits the floor.
A collection of human bones is sitting in the rocking chair.
Back and forth it creaks.
Mary inches forward ‘Mother is that you?’
She takes a deep breath and moves even closer to that chair.
Her eyes bulge until they almost pop.
A version of her mother is sitting there doing some unfinished needle point.
Mary screams out the lords name.
Her mother gives Mary a twisted smile of welcome and tries to speak.
But all that comes out is the stench of death.
Mary is torn between love and repulsion.
She starts to move forward than takes a step back.
But she isn’t quite quick enough.
Her mothers leaps out of the chair and smothers Mary in a loving embrace.
Mary wants to pull back but she is strangely drawn towards the collection
of her mothers bones.
She has missed her mother so much.
So she surrenders to the touch.
She lets out a gasp as her mothers bones begin to fuse with her own.
Mary is Kate and Kate is Mary.
Mother and daughter are re-united once again.
In all of the villages near the cemetery the bones of the dead are on the march.
They will soon visit their ancestors to begin life once again.
There is no use in resisting because the bones wont be denied.
Soon every home in the vicinity is visited by the bones of their dead.
And all is well.
Because there is no reason to be afraid.
Just remember that when you crack your knuckles or your bones start to creak.
It is just the bones of your ancestors saying hello.
So look after your bones.
Drink a lot of milk and treat your ancestors well.
Because if you don’t your soul will become your ancestors to sell.
Thanks for taking the time to read one of my stories and now if you have the means could you please make a donation so i can realize my dream of becoming a fulltime writer. Thanks again Steven.