A weird fiction podcast from John Lombard

The night in London is less dark than it once was, with gas lamps rising on street corners like phosphorescent mushrooms. Not even the dark nooks that remain are fully safe, for constables patrol until morning, their lanterns bobbing like curious fireflies. And so many of the graveyards now have tall fences - hard iron, ornate and sharp, like rows of cavaliers’ pikes. Even some of the graves are fenced, enclosed in iron cages. London is no longer a safe place for resurrection