Have you ever had that moment where you stop and start to shiver, and your body goes a little cold and you begin to quiver.
Rumour has it that when that happens future folk walk boldly across your grave. The motion of the walking stirs your spirit in the future, and symbiotically with you now and you dead, some company you crave.
Laying dormant in the future in cold, dark murky ground, with the bugs and worms crawling around your form and you sense the creepy crawly sound.
And in this moment when you shiver you slowly realise, that this fantasy is a lie and that nothing really happens, nor do you exist when you cease to exist. It is a lie.