…FEVERISH, THE COLD sweat travailed downwards forcing me to pause, the sleeves of my felt jacket absorbing the beads, small breaks between spadefuls of fresh dirt. The night was clammy, expelling air no warmer than a last breath. Silvery clouds without linings passed overhead backlit by a despondent moon, leaving me to work in a perfect light, enough that my vision was not impaired, ample, that nobody would surely see me.
Aptly, I dressed as if for a funeral, the black as great a camouflage as I could ask for in my nightly trysts. Around my pale face, I wore a bandanna, black of course, the moisture from my breath already soaking the thin fabric.
Half way there I stopped, leaving the spade sticking in the fresh dirt. Running my fingers over my palms I felt the calluses that had once been blisters. Panting from the exertion, I looked around me, remembering prior visitations, cherishing memories no friend of mine should ever discover, occurrences, best left, in the dark pools of my own mind, until it unravelled. Oh yes, I could feel it, the end of the string had long since been pulled by forces outside of my own consciousness. They would not let go, and I could not make them. Perhaps if I were honest with myself, I didn’t want them to.
Surveying the small area, surrounded by five foot stone walls and ornate black railings I felt like a blank space, a pause, in one instance an intruder, on the other a devil, but never the evil depicted in holy texts by holy men. I knew I wasn’t hurting anybody. My intentions were not pure and I cursed myself in daylight hours of which I were awake, mostly spent scrubbing the dirt from fingernails, fantasising about past conquests and future loves that would never love me back, would never write to me with scented letters, would never utter my name or look in my eyes. In a strange way it was the purest love. I gave them my all, expecting, knowing I would receive nothing in return. But the risk. Oh the risk of it all was what tingled my spine, shooting boiling blood through me scorching the insides of veins until I feared my heart might glow, showing through my pallid skin. And my mind lit up like never before, my scalp electric, cheering me on, the coliseum empty except for that lone voice whispering screams, taunting me, driving me to the edge of new edges, and here I stand, sweaty and out of breath, ready to dig again – ready – to see my sweet beloved Elizabeth Selena Parks.
Standing several feet deep, I plunged the spade in again and again, tossing the earth over the sides, my boots squirming in the moist soil. Then I heard a voice, distinct from my numerous own.
“G’morning sir. You lost s’umink?”
I paused. I did not freeze however. I looked at the spade in my hands, hefting the worn grained wood and gripped it tighter before turning around, as a man walked towards me, equally dressed minus the bandanna.
The mind quickened, flooded with blood. He was ten feet away and nearing.
“Oh! T’is you. You’re t’only one who wears a bandanna.”
I hadn’t recognised him and my eyes rolled upwards in relief. I clambered out on to the grass.
He rambled on,“I t’ought we agreed. You stick t’ your patch, I stick t’ mine. I rob graves, you do…well that thing you do.” He stood feet away hands in pockets, the collar of his coat up, a solid foot shorter than my self.
I looked at him as he peered at the grave, unable to resist. Swinging I caught him in the temple with the edge of the spade, wiggling it free once he’d crumpled to the ground. My heart sang. What fortune! Two for one and a grave nearly ready.
Great finale. A good dark read. You did a good job of getting into the mind of a kook.
Just as well I didnt start it off with ‘based on a trued story’ 🙂
Feedback appreciated as always.
LOL Very glad you didn’t start the story with those words.
Purely a deep story. Your mind is excellent and filled with so much creativity and your language is perfect. 🙂
Many thanks charlie, kind words 🙂
You’re welcome my good friend. 🙂
By the way, got a new poem up. It’s very different from my other stuff.
You know I’m grinning at this one. 😀 Crazy people have the most interesting lives.
Don’t make me google 🙂
Hahaha!!!
I appreciate the use of language and image throughout. Great story. Many times as I scroll through the reader, I find myself a bit disappointed in stories I click to read. I can happily report this is not the case. Well done.
Many thanks for your kind words.
I have the same issue 😦 🙂
“That thing you do”… I love suggestive writing that becomes darker within the darkest of minds.
I was going to say that you’re a sick puppy and then I realised that it was actually me…
😉
Cheers babbit.
The sickness is all mine for creating this 🙂
Although the premise of the story is dark and foreboding, it is how it is told with each little detail and nuance making my skin crawl. I loved the despondent moon and the use of the word “spade” instead of the American “shovel”. And then to end in such glory, with the heart singing!
Oh my, great job on this one.
By the way, was this fact or fiction? 🙂
Haha @ fact or fiction. I really have to clarify it..or do I?lol. (fiction..)
Thank you for your kind words and insights, truly appreciated 🙂
Ooh, this one is dark. Dark in a good way. Well done!
Thanks Matt.
I decided there wasn’t enough horror on my blog 🙂
For some reason, this reminds me of a joke:
“I spent two hours at my wife’s grave today. Bless her heart, she thinks I’m digging a pond.”
😀
Neat! I liked ‘despondent moon’ though I’m not sure what it would look like.
Thanks bookheathen. I imagined a little less eager to appear, and dimmer:)
Got it!
Nice ending. It appears being caught was a fortunate event.
Indeed 🙂
Thanks for the eyes.
I love the darkness and sense of ‘un-balance’ (I cannot even find the right word). The insanity, just disguised.
Thanks Kim, I was going for that 🙂 I didn’t want to make it all too blatant. Appreciate the feedback.
Nicely done. And although it’s not intricate to the plot, I really liked the phrase “silvery clouds without linings”. It’s the details that always get me…
I enjoyed that line, and without doubt the details are what pepper a good story beyond the story itself.
Thanks for your feedback.
😱😱😱😱
You leave me with so many questions, as always!! 😨😨
Always a good thing, unless those questions are wtf was that all about? 🙂