Author’s Note – I don’t know if I’ve ever shared this here. I wrote it a while ago as a little pic prompt microfic in a writers’ group. It popped up in my memories today on Facebook. It’s stirred something up this time around. Something dark. Something that won’t be quiet. I may have to listen to its whispers and see what happens. ~ J
He didn’t even know he was dead. That’s how mundane his life of reporting the horrors and atrocities of the world, of putting them on display for the public, had become. But the souls whose deaths he’d relayed so dispassionately waited. They waited for him to realize that he was just going through the motions. They waited to show him that the horrors he’d become so numb to in the living world were only the beginning.