The Death (13)

"Excuse me, are you Mr Owens?"
"Yes, how can I help you?"
"There's some mail for you, sir. Here."
The man handed him a grey letter, inked in a subtly different shade of grey words.
On the envelope, it read To Bod Owens.
"That's strange, no one's called me Bod for a long time. Not since young...."
The letter held a strange rhyming verse:
It's all one night,
don't miss your flight.
Place your sorrow,
for the 'morrow,
Return, old dweller
join us in the Macabre.
One and all will hear and stay,
Come and dance the Macabray.
Dance and sing and come to play,
With the Lady On The Grey,
She will lead our Danse Macabray.
"The Danse Macabray..... That was a long time ago...."