(The prompt was “tradition” this time around).

It was that time of year again.

The time to drag all the members of the household to the local graveyard and stare at the sky.

Andrin hated this tradition.

For one thing, it was freakin’ cold.

For another, it was a freakin’ graveyard.

And for the last, freakin’ Alina always hogged the freakin’ blankets.

But there was nothing for it. November 1^st had come and by golly, the parental units were committed.

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