Matins. They woke up and it wasn’t there. The body wasn’t there anymore! Fray Gère looked up to the eyes of Fray Dejan who made one of those faces. Fray Gère put his hand inside the coffin. Sometimes, when you think you have lost your quill sharpener, it appears exactly in the same pocket you might swear it was before you lost it. Mysteries of the devil, holy mother of god. No, the coffin was still as empty as it seemed to him before. Fray Dejan didn’t say a word but made a gesture inviting Fray Gère to follow him. They went out of the catacombs through a spiral staircase…

Hi. Here I am announcing I’m going to devote this month to the Drawlloween 2022. Just that, instead of some ink, I’ll be writing something (and forfeiting the rest of my duties by showing you how to write fiction). I hope they’re stories good enough to honour my favourite holiday. No, my favourite holiday isn’t Día de muertos. I find it kind off track to celebrate the return of a soul when I don’t believe in souls… Which doesn’t help me from loving the bread and the flowers of the time. Ah… I totally forgot yesterday we were already in October (and with it an acquaintance’s birthday).