They always follow the light.
Floating frivolously in the air, they are granted purpose only by the light of the lantern. My lantern. Every night I walk across the field and every night they follow me. Sometimes only tens, but on other nights thousands come , forming a long caravan of soft illumination. These floating souls need a path to reach the afterlife.
I show them that path, with my lantern…
Word Count: 70
Prompt:
The Dark Netizen 