Swish.
Sweep
Swish.
The rhythmic sound of straw bristles scraping against stone echoed through the quiet graveyard.
Swish
Sweep
B moved at a slow, deliberate pace. She didn't rush. Rushing led to sweat, sweat led to feeling tired, and feeling tired meant using up precious energy that could be spent sleeping later. She had perfected the art of doing the absolute bare minimum back in her old life, and sweeping a trail was no different.
sweep
sweep
She pushed a pile of dry brown leaves along the main stone path, her foot-length white hair dragging lightly across the dirt behind her. Whenever the pile got too big, she swept it neatly into the tall grass at the edge of the path, out of sight.
After finishing the main trail, B wandered deeper into the older section of the cemetery. The tombstones here were larger, darker, and covered in thick patches of green moss.
She stopped in front of a particularly large tomb. It was a box-shaped stone monument kind of tomb, as tall as her head, with a heavy flat slab resting on top like a small roof. A thick layer of dirt, dust, fallen dry leafs, and old rotting leaves had gathered right on top of the flat stone.
B stared at it, holding her oversized wooden broom like a walking stick.
"Hmm," B muttered, tilting her head. "If I leave that dirt up there, it's going to turn into mud when it rains."
She walked around the stone box, trying to find an easy way up. Because of her new short, fifteen-year-old body, she couldn't simply reach the top. She had to climb it.
Before placing her boot on the carved edge of the stone, B stopped and tapped the side of the tomb twice with her hand.
"Excuse me," B said in her soft, small voice, looking at the faded name carved into the front of the monument. "I'm just going to climb up here to sweep off the roof. Hope you don't mind."
Naturally, the grave didn't answer. The quiet graveyard remained completely silent, save for a gentle breeze blowing through the trees above.
"Great, thanks for understanding," B said, taking the silence as a clear approval.
She hoisted herself up, her small hands gripping the rough stone edges. She dragged her slender legs up onto the flat top, carefully pulling her long white dress and massive tail of hair after her so nothing got snagged. Sitting on top of the stone box, she used her broom to push all the accumulated dirt and dead leaves off the edge.
Fwhoosh!
The dirt rained down onto the grass below, leaving the flat stone roof completely clean. B patted the surface proudly, wiped her hands on her dress, and carefully slid back down to the ground.
"Job well done," she whispered to the empty air, bowing slightly to the tomb before picking up her broom and moving down the next row.
She continued her work, sweeping around small stone headstones and weathered wooden crosses sticking out of the soft earth. Some of the wooden crosses were so old they were rotting, leaning sideways at odd angles. One cross in particular was snapped right at the crossbar, its top half resting in the weeds.
B swept the surrounding dirt until the area around the broken wooden cross was completely clear of debris. She gathered a large, neat pile of dry leaves right in the center of the dirt path.
She stood back, admiring the neat circle of leaves which is like ones she used to ran through back as a child in her previous life.
"Perfect," B said softly.
Just as she turned around to lean her broom against a nearby tree, a sudden gust of wind blew through the clearing.
SWOOSH!
The wind caught the carefully stacked pile of leaves, lifting them into the air and scattering them in every direction. Leaves flew over the graves, onto the path she had just cleaned, and into the air around her face.
B froze, her large void-black pupils staring at the flying leaves. Her pale lips formed a tiny pout, her eyebrows pressing together in slight annoyance. She pouted at the very nature for sending wind at that very moment and ruined her work.
"Seriously?" she complained, letting out a small, tired sigh. "I just stacked those."
She turned back around to grab her wooden broom, intending to sweep the scattered leaves all over again. But before her hand could touch the wooden handle, another strange rustle of wind swirled around her ankles.
This breeze was different. It felt strangely cold, not like normal fresh air, but like stepping into an air-conditioned room that had been set way too low. Along with the cold air came a low, faint sound, like dozens of tiny voices whispering all at once just out of earshot.
...sssshhhh... ssshhhh...
B blinked, glancing left and right. She brushed a few strands of white hair out of her face and looked down at the ground.
"Ooof, brrr! what's with the sudden cold wind?"
The moment she looked back at where the leaves scattered, well, was since the leaves were gone now.
Not scattered across the path, not stuck in the grass, and not floating in the air. Every single dry leaf that had just been scattered by the wind had completely vanished from the area, leaving the ground around the broken cross completely spotless.
B stared at the clean dirt for three long seconds.
"Huh," she murmured, scratching her pale cheek. "Guess the wind carried them all the way away from this cemetery."
She didn't think about the strange, icy chill. She didn't care about the weird whispering sounds in the air. As far as she was concerned, the leaves were gone, the ground was clean, and she didn't have to sweep that spot a second time.
"Works for me," B said, picking up her broom with a satisfied nod. "Less work for me."
She continued her patrol, sweeping a few more minor trails until the bright sun reached the very center of the blue sky above. By noon, she decided she had done enough physical labor for one day. Her arms felt slightly tired, and her stomach gave a tiny, quiet rumble.
B walked back toward the middle of the cemetery, where her cozy wooden cabin sat under the shadow of a massive ironwood tree. She leaned the tall wooden broom against the porch railing, right next to the front door where she had found it that morning.
It was time to go to the village. She needed to figure out what those four blue fifty-value bills in her pocket could actually buy, and hopefully get herself a fresh change of clothes.
She stepped up to the heavy metal front door of the cabin and pulled it shut until it clicked into place.
She looked around the doorframe for a keyhole, a padlock, or a latch on the outside, but there was nothing. Her boss hadn't given her a key to lock the cabin from the outside when she went out.
"Oh well," B said, turning her back on the cabin.
She wasn't worried about thieves. The cabin contained a worn couch, a few cans of beans, and a box of salt. There was nothing of real value inside to steal anyway, and nobody in their right mind would want to break into a small cottage in the middle of a creepy graveyard.
She walked away from her home, following a narrow dirt trail that led toward the outer perimeter of the cemetery grounds.
As she walked, her long white hair swishing against her boots, she reached a fork in the dirt path. Planted right in the middle of the grass was a weathered wooden signpost with two directional boards painted in crude black letters.
The left arrow pointed back toward the graves, labeled BLACKWOOD CEMETERY.
The right arrow pointed down a long, tree-lined road that stretched out toward the distant green hills, labeled OAKHAVEN VILLAGE.
"Blackwood Cemetery..." B read the name out loud, her high-pitched voice soft in the quiet air. "So that's what this place is called."
She turned her eyes toward the right path. Down at the end of the long road, past a small wooden bridge and a few green fields, she could clearly see the quiet roofs, stone chimneys, and faint smoke trails of Oakhaven Village.
B adjusted the small pocket of her short black pants, making sure her blue money bills were still tucked safely inside.
"Alright," B said, stepping onto the long road toward the village. "Let's see if this money can buy me some normal clothes. And maybe some sweet to eat."
With her oversized pale dress floating around her ankles and her floor-length snow-white hair swaying behind her, the former corporate worker walked slowly down the open road, stepping out into the wider world for the very first time.
Author's Note
EliteToeCollector
Thanks for reading!