It Was My Turn to Dig Again

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It was my turn to dig again.  I maneuvered myself to catch the shovel, half dropped and half nudged in my direction.  The handle was wet, from the exertion that most definitely came with the upraising of dirt.  Gripping on, I didn’t look at the figure standing beside me.  This was not a job that required thinking, just doing.  I held on, put my foot to the shovels back, and drove in with the magnitude of a well-oiled machine.  I had done this sort of digging before, unfortunately.  But, this would be the biggest hole.  I did not permit my eyes to move from the task at hand–Not to what would go there, and not to what surrounded us.  In and out the shovel plunged, as my strength withstood the mountains of soil that I excavated from that ground.  I watched the hole thicken and grow in size as I continued the journey.  Darkness folded in on us, and I watched the shovel fall from my own hands.  We began to lie down…

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