Basically, yeah. I didn’t plan for it to be a metaphor for capitalism / climate change, but it ended up there.

I’m writing one about a world where the bones of the dead can be compressed into blocks of fuel, powering an industrial revolution. However, burning the compressed bones releases the ghosts of those within as amalgamations that kill anyone on the streets after dark. Obviously there was a push to stop using it once the danger was discovered, but factories and rich folk didn’t want to give up cheap fuel, so everyone’s stuck with the killer smog whether they personally stop or not.

The story itself is about a detective trying to figure out how a robbery occurred in the middle of the night.