Work Text:
Two figures walk along a path, silhouetted against glimpses of moonlit sky. One of them is carrying a large bundle over his shoulder. The other a shovel.
They stop at a small clearing, nothing more than a wider patch of dead leaves between the trees. The bundle hits the earth and a few small and sleepy birds startle into a brief racket in nearby bushes.
The forest grows quiet again as it intergrates the shovel-strikes, the setting moon covering them in darkness.
When the morning creeps pale to the sky and the birds hold their breath before their morning concert, the shovel strikes the ground for the last time. The bundle slides into the shallow hole. Some of the loose earth follows.
The two people beside the grave push the dirt with their bare hands until they accidentally touch. Shoulder to shoulder they turn to look at each other. The other swipes a sweaty curl from the other’s face and leaves his hand on the stained and bloodied cheek.
Ewan and Anrew smile at each other and lean forward into a kiss, which I can’t see, because the view slides into the grave, to Alice’s single open-wide eye which stares up at the view her last sun reveals.