We all have weird dreams, don’t we? For example, several years ago (6 or 7?), I had a really odd dream about being in a crypt with skeletons. The next morning I wrote a story about it. That story turned into my book The Halley Branch.

Of course, we often have really odd experiences in waking life. A year ago I had a very weird experience in a cemetery, which you can read about here. The important part here, though, is that stench that went away the moment I turned, the smell of death. I have only smelled this scent in very old cemeteries, and not all ancient cemeteries at that, just a few. It is different from the smell of, say, a dead animal. It is a horrible stench.

OK, why do I bring up that old dream and my spooky experience from almost exactly a year ago?