Back in the pub the homeless man enunciated in front of the open fire.
“…the plan is this. We lead the ghosts of these children back to their history”
“Where’s history?” Shakespeare shouted.
“The 900’s” the librarian’s shouted, all dressed for Christmas. Sean drunk on the ground.
“Who are these children”
The question lingered.
The homeless man plunged a stake into the fire to extract a burning torch!
They followed. In silence. Shuffling. Hammered.