The dead are twitching

evilsupplyco:

Summer is when many undead sleep, rousing occasionally to raise a bony finger into the air to test the temperature, or they will open their ghastly mouths to taste the season.

“Not yet,” they will yawn, “just a bit longer.”

Active from autumn through spring’s wretched beginning, they are twitching in their sleep now and dreaming dead dreams of mayhem and wonder.

Some will wake early, and like excited youngsters, whisper to each other whilst they await the proper time to rise.