I left the shovel stuck into the dirt, letting my foot rest on one of the edges. I unrolled the sleeves of my blouse, ignoring the red strains and dirt caking my palms. I took a moment to look over the last few hours of my work, realizing the striking pain in my spine.
I could hear my entire back crack free of stress when I leaned back, “Jesus, that felt great.”
I brought my chest back up, fixing my posture, and looked at the dirt in front of me. I still had work to finish: hiding my husband’s grave.