Grave Digger (Short Story)

Do you know the sound of a digging shovel?

Do you hear the hard strike as it hits against the Earth, tearing it apart?

The shovel rips at the Earth, destroying the night.

At 3 AM, when you are trying to sleep, you should only pray that you don’t hear the sound.

Someone somewhere is digging, for their own reasons.

Like that of a ticking clock, the constant rhythm makes it inhuman.

Rumours say they are digging for those who were about to move on—graves in the gardens of their homes.

You could only shut your window in hopes of drowning out the faint sound, but as the next night arrived, the sound was only closer.

Right outside.

Digging away.