The graveyard was quiet, save for the wind that rippled through the dry, overgrown grass and the branches of a dying willow that scraped against the weathered mausoleum. A thick fresco of slate-colored clouds blotted out the moon and stars in an ink-dark sky. The only light came from a flickering candle that threatened to go out with every tentative step.
Animator. Illustrator. Storyteller.