The brakes squeal as she stops by the graveyard. She steps out of her car into the pitch-darkness that only one-in-the-morning can bear and pulls a shovel from her back seat.I wrote a much longer version as well that was devoid of the humor. . . I'll spare you that one.
Laying the shovel on the ground, she reaches for the newspaper and flashlight on the console. The paper pierces the silence as she spreads the obituaries page across the hood. Madeline Raye. . . Let's hope she had better taste than the last three stops!
She scanned the graveyard for a patch of freshly broken ground and quickly focused on Madeline's final resting place.
The distinctive sound of shovel breaking ground was one that, despite hearing it hundreds of times, unsettled her with its action. she didn't necessarily feel guilty for this maneuver as much as unsettled by the reexcavation of a buried casket.
Finally, she had reached the coffin. She opened it and found exactly what she was looking for. On the feet of Madeline's corpse were the most beautiful shoes she had ever seen. She grabbed them, pushed the dirt back over the grave, and returned to her car. She placed the shoes and the shovel in the back of her car and marked Madeline's name off of the list.
07 October 2007
The Shoe Story
Per request from Danielle, here's the infamous shoe story from GSP, as I originally wrote it twenty minutes before class:
Posted by Mitch at 11:12 PM