And, the sixth, for the time being. [spoiler]Something, suddenly changed. Coldshore Cemetery suddenly took on a strange light for him. It was all so……real. Not an hour ago, a corpse, dead as dead could ever be, stood at his door, and knocked. And then left, holding a trinket in hand that had excited it. It was all so alive. And he realized, that Cromwell’s letter was real. The words the man had written, his explanations. He had done all of this before. He had encountered everything he had spoken about. And it finally, arrived at his doorstep and dawned on him, that he was the new gravekeeper. This place, was his job now. Over a kettle of tea and somewhat shaky hands, he read through Cromwell’s letter in the desk, running over and over again through his notes. He looked outside, catching the fading light of the day. He set his cup down on the desk. The wisps. The lamps. None of them were lit. In a rush, he stood up from his chair, and found his heavier coat, and his token hat, slipping them all on. The door creaked loudly as he stepped outside this time, out to the strange world he now called home. [/spoiler]