Fieldtrip to the Graveyard
I kind of knew something was about to happen when I found obituary clippings hidden under the comfortable pillows at the warehouse. The names on the generic typed-font eulogies meant nothing to me, and I was uncertain if they held anything for Zillah either. It was when I saw the familiar spikey dreadlocks and a slack-jawed face of the Professor buried in the crowded streets of London, I knew that the time was now. The crowd hid me well as I slid through, avoiding elbows and glances, and I followed them to the edge of town. What were those large knapsacks on their shoulders for? It wasn't like Zillah to carry alot of weight around, he probably thought it marred his lean frame.
When they walked through the iron-wrought gates of the local cemetery, it became harder to disappear in the crowd without being seen. I let their gentle shoves carry me along the avenue. A confident smirk filled my face because I knew where my targets were heading. Waiting a few minutes, I turned back around and slunk into the cemetery, looking for the direction that my lover went. Tall, gothic headstones littered the landscape, and with much peeking around ancient stones, I finally saw their lamplight not far in the distance. I carefully stepped my way closer, hiding in the shade of those ominous tombs until I had a decent view. The two men seemed entranced by a particular headstone, and without words, they simultaneously pulled shovels from their sacks and penetrated the earth. It was strange watching Zillah work like that. It was probably the most I'd seen him exert himself except during our bathtimes. It seemed like hours, so I leaned with my back against the cold stone and waited, listening to the redundant chink of metal meeting earth. When the sound finally became familiar in my head, it stopped. There were light mumblings, and then the glint of the shovel as it made impact on something within the accomplished hole in the ground. The men lifted themselves out of the grave, gathered their things, then wound their way further into the cemetery, where the tombstones were lined closer together. I stalked them again, quietly, and watched as Zillah lightly traced the scrawlings of a name on a cheaply made marker. Again, they started digging, making that familiar sound as they buried deeper. After what seemed like ages, I see the Professor dig in his things and pull out a syringe. How odd... They quickly left, leaving their damage exposed, and went nearby to mausoleum. I stayed put, knowing that if I moved, they would see me. They didn't stay long at the gaudy, small building, and soon headed in the direction of the entrance.
I took a moment, gathering myself, and stretching out my now stiff muscles. Glancing at the newly dug hole, I crept over and peered downwards. A pale, blue woman stared blankly past me, her blouse thrown open, and dirt smudged around her mouth. I turned away quickly and lost the last quiche I had eaten earlier that day. The mausoleum was still in sight, so I tread through the sea of stone and found an opened stone box. It didn't seem like the sort of thing that should be open to the elements, and when I peered in the shallow darkness, I wish I hadn't. My stomach turned sour, and I strode quickly away, back towards the first grave. My gut was telling me I shouldn't even bother looking, but my curiosity took over, and when I saw the headless corpse of a fat man laying in the guts of the earth, I nearly fell and lost myself. Narrowly avoiding being eaten by the bowels of the graveyard, I hurried out and lost myself in tears and in the inattentive and oblivious crowd.
When they walked through the iron-wrought gates of the local cemetery, it became harder to disappear in the crowd without being seen. I let their gentle shoves carry me along the avenue. A confident smirk filled my face because I knew where my targets were heading. Waiting a few minutes, I turned back around and slunk into the cemetery, looking for the direction that my lover went. Tall, gothic headstones littered the landscape, and with much peeking around ancient stones, I finally saw their lamplight not far in the distance. I carefully stepped my way closer, hiding in the shade of those ominous tombs until I had a decent view. The two men seemed entranced by a particular headstone, and without words, they simultaneously pulled shovels from their sacks and penetrated the earth. It was strange watching Zillah work like that. It was probably the most I'd seen him exert himself except during our bathtimes. It seemed like hours, so I leaned with my back against the cold stone and waited, listening to the redundant chink of metal meeting earth. When the sound finally became familiar in my head, it stopped. There were light mumblings, and then the glint of the shovel as it made impact on something within the accomplished hole in the ground. The men lifted themselves out of the grave, gathered their things, then wound their way further into the cemetery, where the tombstones were lined closer together. I stalked them again, quietly, and watched as Zillah lightly traced the scrawlings of a name on a cheaply made marker. Again, they started digging, making that familiar sound as they buried deeper. After what seemed like ages, I see the Professor dig in his things and pull out a syringe. How odd... They quickly left, leaving their damage exposed, and went nearby to mausoleum. I stayed put, knowing that if I moved, they would see me. They didn't stay long at the gaudy, small building, and soon headed in the direction of the entrance.
I took a moment, gathering myself, and stretching out my now stiff muscles. Glancing at the newly dug hole, I crept over and peered downwards. A pale, blue woman stared blankly past me, her blouse thrown open, and dirt smudged around her mouth. I turned away quickly and lost the last quiche I had eaten earlier that day. The mausoleum was still in sight, so I tread through the sea of stone and found an opened stone box. It didn't seem like the sort of thing that should be open to the elements, and when I peered in the shallow darkness, I wish I hadn't. My stomach turned sour, and I strode quickly away, back towards the first grave. My gut was telling me I shouldn't even bother looking, but my curiosity took over, and when I saw the headless corpse of a fat man laying in the guts of the earth, I nearly fell and lost myself. Narrowly avoiding being eaten by the bowels of the graveyard, I hurried out and lost myself in tears and in the inattentive and oblivious crowd.
Comments