The Undead

The undead? One day, a high summer season, I drove my bike along with a narrow track, the led me deep into a landscape that once had been domesticated but now had gone back to nature, I came upon a small clearing ringed by tall umbrella trees leaving the clearing in an ominous half- light where sun glare danced among the branches of trees and bushes; I saw three hearses and a van, none of them had wheels the windows of the last-ride-cars had been taken down and flimsy curtains put up to give it a resemblance to home. A family of itinerants had found sanctuary here and I was not welcome; they threw pebbles at me and I had to turn the bike around sine narrows forest road ended at their camp. They came running, trying to catch me, and dogs snapped at my heels. I have never attempted t be back since but, often think why some people are so poor they have to live in a hearse.