Scrub.
Scrub.
Scrub.
The stiff bristles of the hand brush scraped against the dark, damp stone of an ancient tombstone.
B sat on her knees in the damp grass, her oversized white dress tucked around her black shorts to keep it clean, while her massive tail of snow-white hair rested over one shoulder. With a small, steady rhythm, her small hand moved back and forth, rubbing away thick patches of wet green moss that had taken over the front of the grave.
Small flakes of dark green moss fell onto the dirt below, revealing the carved letters underneath:
[ HERE LIES SIR ARTHUR - BELOVED HUSBAND AND SOLDIER ]
B stopped brushing, wiped a bit of green dust off her pale cheek with the back of her hand, and looked down at the wooden bucket sitting beside her.
Inside the bucket was clean water she had brought from the cabin sink. She picked up a small rag, dipped it into the cool water, and wiped it across the rough face of the stone monument.
The remaining green dust washed away, leaving the grey stone surface clean, smooth, and neat.
"Looks good," B whispered in her soft, high-pitched voice.
She stood up, holding her brush and bucket, and looked at her work with some pridefulness.
She had been doing this exact same repetitive task for hours now. She would find a mossy grave, scrub off the thick green layer with her brush, wash it down with a wet rag, and then move down the row to the next monument.
As s she stretched her small arms, B paused, paying attention to her physical body.
It felt completely strange nonetheless.
She hadn't eaten a single bite of breakfast this morning. In fact, since coming to this new world, all she had eaten were a few sweet cream buns and a candied banana yesterday afternoon and havent had any big heavy meals other than that. By all logical rules of human biology especially children biology, working out in the sun for four hours straight on an empty stomach should have made her dizzy, shaky, and very much starving.
Yet, as she stood there holding her heavy bucket, B felt... amazingly good.
She didn't feel weak. She didn't feel dizzy. In fact, she felt more rested, light, and energized than she ever had in her entire previous life, even after sleeping for ten hours straight. Her body still had the frail, small build of a fifteen-year-old girl who looked like a breeze could blow her over, but inside, she felt strangely full of energy.
'My digestion in this body really is strange,' B thought, patting her flat stomach with a pale hand. 'Those cream buns from yesterday must have had a ton of calories. I don't feel hungry at all.'
She looked up at the sky. The bright sun had reached its highest point directly overhead, signaling that it was now middle of the day.
B turned her head to look out across the vast, sprawling rows of Blackwood Cemetery.
She had scrubbed about thirty graves so far. But looking at the rest of the graveyard, there were still hundreds of stone monuments, burial boxes, and iron crosses buried under thick layers of green moss and dark lichen. She had cleaned maybe one-fourth of the entire cemetery at best.
B stared at the endless rows of slightly green stone for three long seconds.
Her natural, bone-deep laziness instantly flared up in her chest.
"Yeah... no," B said flatly, her pitch-black void pupils flat and unbothered. "That's enough manual labor for today."
Working herself to exhaustion on a single day was something a foolish corporate worker did. A smart grave keeper paced herself. She would just clean a few graves tomorrow, a few more the day after that, and gradually finish the rest over the next month or two. There was no deadline, no manager screaming in her ear, and the graves certainly weren't going anywhere.
She picked up her bucket and brush, walking slowly back toward her cabin in the middle of the graveyard.
The evening air was cool and still, carrying the faint scent of damp earth and old stone. Her oversized boots made soft, tired thuds against the narrow dirt path as she passed between the rows of silent graves.
She set the bucket down on the wooden porch, washed her brush under the sink inside, and set everything neatly by the front door. Satisfied that everything was where it belonged, she quietly closed the door behind her.
Now that her work for the day was finished, B walked over to her plush brown couch and sat down on the soft cushions. The couch sank slightly beneath her small frame, wrapping her in its familiar warmth.
She closed her eyes, waiting for the sweet, heavy feeling of sleep to pull her down into another long nap.
Five minutes passed.
Ten minutes passed.
The cabin remained completely silent, save for the faint creaking of the old wooden walls.
B opened her large black eyes, staring up at the plain wooden ceiling of the cabin.
She blinked once.
Then twice.
...
She was still awake.
B slowly frowned.
She wasn't sleepy at all.
Her body was so completely energized and well-rested that she couldn't force herself to fall asleep, no matter how hard she tried.
B sat up on the couch, her pale lips forming a small, bored pout.
This was the ultimate dilemma. She had an incredibly easy job, free rent, zero stress, and all the free time in the world, but she had absolutely nothing to do to pass the time when she wasn't sleeping.
Her old doomscroller spirit from her past life began to weep inside her heart.
Back on Earth, whenever she had free time, she would pull out her smartphone and spend hours scrolling through short videos, reading random internet stories, or looking at funny memes until her eyes got tired. Sometimes, she would even stare at the screen without actually remembering what she had been watching five minutes earlier. But here, inside this quiet cabin, there were no screens, no internet, and no videos to watch.
"I need a phone, i need internet, i need to watch videos..." B muttered to the empty room, her child-like voice filled with quiet sorrow.
She reached into the small pocket of her black shorts, pulling out her remaining money. She counted the small paper notes carefully, hoping that she had somehow miscounted.
She had exactly 17 Vicks left.
B stared at the money for several seconds.
Then she sighed deeply
17 Vicks was enough to buy a couple of sweet cream buns or a simple snack, but it was nowhere near enough to buy a phone or anything significant along those line.
Her shoulders drooped while her lips pouted a bit.
She slowly put the money back into her pocket, already mourning the endless scrolling sessions she could no longer have.
She didn't even know what day of the week it was. Was it Monday? Was it Thursday? Her mysterious employer had promised that her weekly pay envelope would arrive at the cabin, but she had no idea if the boss paid on Sundays, Fridays, or at the end of the month.
Until that envelope slid through her door slot, she was completely broke.
B sighed, leaning her head against the back of the couch. She couldn't sleep, she couldn't doomscroll, and she couldn't buy anything expensive.
'How am I supposed to pass the time until I get tired again?' she wondered, staring blankly at her boots.
Then, a sudden spark flashed inside her mind.
If she couldn't scroll through a phone screen, could she scroll through a book?
"A library..." B murmured, her dark pupils lighting up slightly.
Oakhaven Village was a decent-sized town with stone streets, bakeries, clothing shops, and street lamps. A town like that almost certainly had a local public library or a small bookstore! If she could find a library, she could borrow stacks of books, bring them back to her cozy cabin couch, and read storybooks or local history books for free until her eyes got heavy enough for a nap.
It was a good plan. A great plan, even. It cost zero Vicks and solved her boredom problem entirely.
"Option approved," B said, standing up from the couch with a rare burst of motivation.
She smoothed down her clean white dress, checked that her high leather boots were tied securely, and walked toward the heavy metal front door.
She stepped out onto the porch, pulled the cabin door shut until it clicked, and walked down the steps into the warm afternoon air.
With her floor-length snow-white hair swaying gently behind her boots, the tiny grave keeper walked down the dirt path toward the iron gates, heading back to Oakhaven Village to find herself something to read.
Author's Note
EliteToeCollector
Thanks for reading!