The Grave Without a Tomb

January 15, 2018
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The trees are waving, yet the forest still cold and unwelcoming. His legs moving fast, but quiet. The boy stops to hear the distant sound of crunching leaves. He hides behind a tall oak tree, his eyes widen as he peers at the raccoon, head down and shoulders dropped he continues the search for his dog. The boy pulls his backpack off his shoulders and rips it open to find the dog treats. He starts dropping a piece of dog food on the leafy pathways as tears start rolling off his face. He raises his palm to his face then starts kicking the dirt and leaves into the air with the force of a wrecking ball. He leans up against the rough old tree and sinks down to the floor. His face now red and and covered in dirt.

Staring into the distance a big mount of dirt catches his eye. He gets up off the floor gently and walks towards the dirt pile with caution. The boy throws more treats onto the floor, but the bag of food now on the floor and the boys’s mouth slightly open. The boy stands frozen but continues to look at the cold naked body in a ditch right beside him. His throat moves as he gulps and he bolts through the forest stumbling on his own feet to get home. He comes to an immediate halt and turns in the direction of the ditch, his eyebrows clenched and his fingernails digging into his palms. This time inching closer towards the pit, as if they were lions inside. Covered in sweat and shaking he kneels on the ground and pulls out his jacket from his backpack to set over the woman’s colorless body. Her hair still a lively blond, but her skin decaying like a fruit fallen off a tree.

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