Plunging, scooping, the sound of dirt sliding off each shovel with a shoosh as its tossed to the side. Another plunge, another scoop, more shoosh – the pile grows larger, the hole surrounding their boots grows deeper, the men grow more weary. The scent of dry dirt giving way to the earthier aroma of moist, dark soil.
Removing his cap and scratching his head, he asks, “‘Ere, guv, don’t you think this looks more than a bit odd?”
The other spits, digs, then replies, “Blood well is, son.”
Digging deeper, the dirt turning firmer, becoming more dense. Each shovel still plunging, a foot braced on the back lending force to the spade as it slides into hardened ground. Loose dirt scooped upon the belly of the trowel tossed above, to the side with a shoosh as it slips off the metal edge – the hole growing with each effort.
Removing his cap and wiping sweat from his brow, he says “Take a butcher’s. Tell me that ain’t too wide.”
The other spits, digs, then replies, “Blood well is, son.”
Tree roots tangle and snag, yet dig further they are told, so they do. No longer plunging, only scraping a hardened surface painted putrid with residue – ground now removed, the scent is strong, almost fetid, a pungent odor.
Removing his cap and squinting in the dim light, he says, “Weird innit? Strange that there ain’t nothin’ but wooden planks, eh, guv?”
The other spits, swings, then replies, “Blood well is, son.”
Hefting the crimson coated shovel over his shoulder, he glances at the body lying near his feet, takes in the breadth of the pit they’ve dug, then turns to the man standing above.
The other spits, stares, then says, “Ain’t fill in’ ‘er in.”
One pistol shot fired. “No, I believe not.”
~~~
This piece of flash fiction was featured in The Sirens Call eZine, issue 05. Given one photograph, both Kalla and I wrote a 300 word flash piece inspired by that image alone. Thanks to my warm blankie for the spit shine!
Nina D'Arcangela
Sotet Angyal 
November 12th, 2012 at 10:36 am
Wow, great post, Nina! I’m impressed that you conjured this from that photograph alone. I love the style it’s narrated in, and I especially love the treachery laced throughout this flash piece. Very well done!! 🙂
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November 12th, 2012 at 1:36 pm
Thanks Joe! Dirt and a hole… with my tendency toward violence in my non-emotive writing, there was really only one outcome to this piece as soon as the image was chosen. Like all the comparative flash pieces we do for the eZine, I had fun doing it. ;}
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November 12th, 2012 at 8:55 pm
Flash is always tricky, yet you handle it with such finesse and grace. I love this piece.
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November 13th, 2012 at 5:42 pm
Thank you, Jason! I love doing flash pieces, particularly when there is a strict word count that has to be met; not one word over or under ;}
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November 13th, 2012 at 10:17 pm
Great job, Nina. What have you done to me that I feel compelled to read everything of yours that passes through my e-mail filters now? 😉
-Jimmy
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November 14th, 2012 at 12:38 pm
Thank you Jimmy! Sorry, I can’t apologize for compelling you to want to read my ramble, but I can say I love that you’re enjoying it!
Now I just have to remember where I stashed that effigy so I can use it on others… ;}
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November 19th, 2012 at 7:40 pm
At first, I was disappointed that this wasn’t about a plunging neckline. But wordsmith that you are, I quickly cast my overactive libido aside and settled in for the ride. Love everything you do.
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November 19th, 2012 at 8:29 pm
LMAO! Dirt on the cleavage? Pah-leez! Dirty girls aren’t necessarily ‘dirty’ girls… We’ll talk, don’t worry – I’ll explain it to you.
;}~
Thank you Hunter, kind words never fall on deaf ears over here! 🙂
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