Curse [antikvár]

Prologue tven without the mystical ceremony, burial at night was enough to unnerve the mourners. They clutched the black candles tightly in their right hands as if ilieir holding firmly onto the light kept them from falling into the newly dug grave they surrounded. The pungent odor of freshly uncovered damp earth filled their nostrils, but no one coughed or as much as cleared his throat. They had been instructed to hold their candles at least sbc inches above their heads. Most had their arms stiffly extended, their bodies trembling like the bodies of subway riders clinging to their straps while the train jets into the night. Looking at each other, they saw how the small flames dripped yellow light over their faces and how their eyes glittered like those of the curious nocturnal creatures hovering in the shadows. The candles flickered in the cool late September New York Catskill Mountain evening, but not one was extinguished. Anna Young had lit them while reciting some ancient incantation and that seemed to help each defy the ! .