GloMag GloMagMay2020 | Page 197

darker into the restfulness of the earth; the sound becomes grey to black, heavier down under. One night the grave digger could hear the drops of moonlight dripping like melted butter on the crushing waves of the sea. But the moondrops froze the moment they touched the foaming waves. That night, he was digging an emergency grave under the supervision of influential people and police. There was a scandalous murmur; Sound of some errant footsteps dissolved in the hissing sea-soaked sand. The unidentified corpse lay bare. No coffin could margin its relentless loneliness and silence. After the grave had been dug hurriedly along with his team, he was asked to help them in dropping down the corpse into the overflowing emptiness of the grave. When he uplifted the naked corpse, her thick curly clumsy tresses hung down and laced against his old wrinkled arms. He knew from the touch that those were clumsy curls, like wisps of smoke. 197