Dinnertime by Victor Nandi

The stray stared at the caretaker’s meal, its tail wagging.

The old man stroked the animal’s neck. Tossing it a crumb from his modest sandwich, he strolled into the cemetery and plonked himself on the grass. The dog followed him.

Slowly, shrivelled corpses started digging their way up and crawling to the surface.

The caretaker lay on his back, resting his feet over a tombstone. The dead didn’t want respect.

The woofing soon changed to screeches of agony that drowned under crackling of bones, shredding of flesh and leisurely chomping of organs.

The caretaker grinned and focussed on his sandwich.