14 December 2006

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Gravedigger

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Shovel in the ground, lift, dump, shove, lift, dump, shove, lift, dump, shove. Done by latern light, much less intrusive than a large torch. Wipe off the sweat, lean on the shovel, panting for breath. Six feet, two metres, to dig up in a perfect rectangle, one night to do it. Need strong arms and a strong will, steady feet, a plethora of patience.

Shove, lift, dump, shove, lift, dump, shove, lift, dump, shove.

Wearing the long, brown coat and brown hat. Need it to stay invisible next to the pile of growing dirt. Wearing brown gloves to stop any forming calluses and prevent dirty hands. No sign, no crime. Just a job for some money.

Fog rolls in silent waves across the grass, curling around the gravestones and tombs and markers. An old graveyard, silent since it was first used. No noise at night, not even insects. Not a sound when it strikes midnight. Haunted by the dead, but harmless. Haunted by the living, but harmful.

Shove, lift, dump, shove, lift, dump, shove, lift, dump, shove.

A steady rhythm, over and over in the strong muscles. More sweat coating the skin. Over and over, with the shovel, creating more sweat. Focusing on the shovel to finish the job, to get some money to live a bit longer a bit more comfortably.

Shove, lift, dump, shove, lift, dump, shove, lift, dump, shove.

Fine rain drizzles on the coat, softening the ground. Shovel becomes slippery, not favourable. Leather gloves sliding on the wooden handle. Shoes stuck in the mud, sinking to the knees. Too soft to climb out of of, too late to cry out. Need to finish the job to get the money to live in the small, wooden house at the edge of the graveyard.

Shove, lift, dump, shove, lift, dump, shove, lift, dump, shove.

Gravedigger stops, leaning on the shovel. Gravedigger sinks, heavy and slow. Rain pounds on the hat, cascades of water off the brim. Gravedigger folds the gloved hands, one top the other, on the handle. Gravedigger does not know of any god or God that could help. Gravedigger shuts the heavy lids over seeing eyes. Hears and sees the movements in the mind.

Shove, lift, dump, shove, lift, dump, shove, lift, dump, shove.

Gravedigger keeps the hands folded, not praying or thinking of the years past. Gravedigger think of the job that's supposed to be finished. Wonders if the bones can six feet, two metres, beneath the dirt and mud can feel the rain pouring down on them like this. Wonders why everyone is buried beneath the ground if their bones can't even feel the rain.

Shove, lift, dump, shove, lift, dump, shove, lift, dump, shove.

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Inspired by an image by Poe on deviantArt which, sadly no longer exists. May continue.