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Hurrying down the boreen homewards under a harvest moon Finuncane wondered, how long until midnight? Tomorrow was samhain, when the worlds collided and the dead walked the land.

A stranger fell in with him, a dark figure on the country lane. Finuncane said howyeh but the other stayed silent.

And Finuncane thought he knew who walked with him.

Hoping for two birds from a single stone, Finuncane asked the stranger had he the time at all? And the stranger, in a voice from behind the sky, said it had just turned midnight when he left Hell.

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