Thump Thump. Thump.
The pattern of soil being shoveled and thrown. Clarisse wiped the sweat from her upper lip as she continued her work.
Her older brother, Lex, had always been the one who did this. She had watched from afar, taking notes, not realizing how much of a strain the heavy weight put on him. From that far back, not noticing the bulging of his veins, the sheer pain.
Now she knew.
She was a few feet in now, as the night peaked, and she pulled herself up the ladder to grab some water.
Dangling her feet off the edge of the hole, Clarisse sighed.
If only Lex was here for this job.
Her eyes started to blur with tears as she looked at his gravestone.
YOU ARE READING
Thump
Short StoryJust a short story from Mr. Kulick's creative writing class! PROMPT: Start with a 'Thump'.
