The Dead on Rainy Days

It's raining... on the hill... rain... hill... rain... hill... water flows down the steeps and slides of grass and sandy sides. They drain into the barred pits that lead to lower chambers. There, the water bids them wake. The corpses flood out from the earth's belly onto the brick layered path on the hill. Victims of the canine's bite. Floating bodies that seek to share their undead fate. We of the hill hide in fear. The dead do come on rainy days.