Three times I forayed into the winding lanes of the Green-Wood Cemetery. Each time, I found myself lost on a different path. The Cemetery is an ever-twisting labyrinth, its minotaur less-pressed to exact cosmic discipline and its dimly-lit halls brightned by the sky.

The bones live happily here. I heard there were restless nights, but the fervor I found was no riot; only a rave. They allowed me passage throughout their enclave to simply observe the variety of the Shifting Cemetery; to observe, and nothing more.