let this whole town hear your knuckles crack
Title: let this whole town hear your knuckles crack
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 320
Summary: Mar has no patience for ghosts.
Warnings: Zombies? Sort of?
Notes: I don't even know. Title from Damn These Vampires by The Mountain Goats.
let this whole town hear your knuckles crack
“I just think you should -” Cim says. Her voice is as pale as her body.
“No.” Mar plants her shovel in the ground. She has no patience for ghosts. It's spring, and the earth is wet and partially dissolved like coffee grounds under her wellingtons.
“You forgot the salt,” Cim says, quietly. Mar doesn't hear, or pretends not to.
*
In the evening, the creatures burst from the ground like dandelions. Skin hangs like cobwebs from their grasping fingers. Mar hefts her shovel in the dim halo of a street light. There is a simplicity to them that she finds almost unbearably beautiful, and when they come at her, shambling like destitute drunks and hungry animals, it feels almost like a waste to take them down.
Still, she reasons, as she slams the shovel into yet another salivating face, someone has to do it. It might as well be her.
*
Cim is giving her the evil eye.
“What, then,” Mar says, shoveling mud over the bodies.
“I didn't say anything,” Cim mutters.
“You wouldn't bother showing up if there wasn't something.”
Cim takes a deep breath - some habits are harder to break than others. “You keep forgetting the salt.”
Mar bristles. “I'm not even done burying them.”
“Yesterday,” Cim says. “And twice the last time.”
Mar stops, shovel halfway to the ground. “What are you trying to say, exactly?”
Cim fidgets, eyes fixed on the shovel. “I just think that maybe,” and she takes an almost imperceptible step backwards, “maybe you should take a break.”
“That's ridiculous,” Mar says, but her mouth feels dry.
“You're getting sloppy,” Cim says, and disappears. Mar finishes her work, and sits back on her haunches. The sky is vast and blue like a headache.
*
She remembers to salt.
*
The silence that follows is unbearable.
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 320
Summary: Mar has no patience for ghosts.
Warnings: Zombies? Sort of?
Notes: I don't even know. Title from Damn These Vampires by The Mountain Goats.
let this whole town hear your knuckles crack
“I just think you should -” Cim says. Her voice is as pale as her body.
“No.” Mar plants her shovel in the ground. She has no patience for ghosts. It's spring, and the earth is wet and partially dissolved like coffee grounds under her wellingtons.
“You forgot the salt,” Cim says, quietly. Mar doesn't hear, or pretends not to.
*
In the evening, the creatures burst from the ground like dandelions. Skin hangs like cobwebs from their grasping fingers. Mar hefts her shovel in the dim halo of a street light. There is a simplicity to them that she finds almost unbearably beautiful, and when they come at her, shambling like destitute drunks and hungry animals, it feels almost like a waste to take them down.
Still, she reasons, as she slams the shovel into yet another salivating face, someone has to do it. It might as well be her.
*
Cim is giving her the evil eye.
“What, then,” Mar says, shoveling mud over the bodies.
“I didn't say anything,” Cim mutters.
“You wouldn't bother showing up if there wasn't something.”
Cim takes a deep breath - some habits are harder to break than others. “You keep forgetting the salt.”
Mar bristles. “I'm not even done burying them.”
“Yesterday,” Cim says. “And twice the last time.”
Mar stops, shovel halfway to the ground. “What are you trying to say, exactly?”
Cim fidgets, eyes fixed on the shovel. “I just think that maybe,” and she takes an almost imperceptible step backwards, “maybe you should take a break.”
“That's ridiculous,” Mar says, but her mouth feels dry.
“You're getting sloppy,” Cim says, and disappears. Mar finishes her work, and sits back on her haunches. The sky is vast and blue like a headache.
*
She remembers to salt.
*
The silence that follows is unbearable.