“Cold and Dark and Quiet” by Anonymous

I walk through the graveyard quite often.

It is always cold and dark and quiet.

It is not quiet when I start my digging,

but it stays dark.

I mound up spade-fulls of darkness in the darkness,

opening a way up to the skull.

The darkness disappears when the skull starts gleaming in the moonlight,

and the cold disappears when I start my skullduggery.

{Prompt: Base a short story around the work skullduggery. If you don’t know what it means, make up  the meaning for the purpose of the story}


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