As we advance in years, we find time has made some people superfluous to us or has made us unnecessary to other people. To us, as to them, we become the living dead. There is a particular frustration to grieving a living breathing loss. They are present but forever absent. It is a state that is not so final but just as hopeless. In the past, we took for granted these souls' destiny to accompany us through life, but then gradually or somehow without warning, they’re lost forever. Their memory becomes an abstract figment of dreams. The living dead. They are friends, family, lovers; physically, they still exist but are always separated by the unbridgeable and yawning gape of time.
This is a collection of anecdotes from the fringes of reality, a tapestry stitched together from our dreams as well as our nightmares, from the fears that haunt the collective imagination. These are the symptoms of the sickness known as the human condition.