TOIL

Digging.

It's been raining continuously for a couple days. Or maybe it's been a week. Maybe more. He'd lost track. The boy's muscles burn with overuse, a nice distraction from the parts of him that are broken. Sometimes he feels a presence or sees something out of the corner of his eye, but when he turns to look, there's never anyone there.

Digging.

He tries to ignore the pain in his heavily swollen ring and pinky fingers. His broken ribs are probably still broken. They feel broken. He wipes his nose with his bloodied sleeve. No new blood, just snot from the freezing rain. His coughing fits seem to have stopped at least.

Digging.

He's carrying a body now. He can't remember the person's name. Why can't he remember it? He knows his face. Oh. Yes. The man who sold leeks in the market. He'd never even thought to ask his name, and now there was likely no one left to remember it. Maybe he has family in another village. Probably not. It'll probably be like the man never existed. Why hadn't he asked his name? Why hadn't he...

Digging.

It's raining again. It stopped last night, briefly, but now it's just as heavy as before. He gathers her pieces as the downpour enters through the open roof. He can only tell it's a girl because of the doll near her remains and a few pieces of shredded fabric. Despite the scene around him, the doll isn't dirty. It'd even escaped the rain. Had he already found her parents? They don't seem to be here. Maybe she was older than Ài. That didn't help.

Digging.

He saw him again today, and not in his periphery this time. Or maybe it'd just been his eyes playing tricks on him. Maybe he was getting sick again. He'd rushed at the figure immediately, but by the time he'd gotten close, the image had already faded as if it'd never been there. Maybe it hadn't. The boy doesn't remember what happened after that. He wakes up laying on the ground near the hole he'd been digging earlier.

Digging.

He carries her to the big tree they used to climb when they were both little. Hopefully she'll like it here. She was so frustrated when she could no longer beat him to the top. Is it wrong to think she still looks beautiful, even like this? Mei pretended to be mad when he kissed her that day. She closed her eyes first, though. She looked so giddy when he invited her to the upcoming festival, but...

Digging.

Mother and Father. He thanks them for doing what they could with what little they'd had. He does not pray to the heavens anymore, but he hopes his sibling's next life is a good one. At the time, he'd hoped for a little brother, but perhaps he would have gotten another sister instead. That would have been ok too. He'd built caskets for his parents. He'd only made a few in total. Did that make him selfish? There were just so many bodies. Too many for one person.

Digging.

Heng wipes his brow and looks out towards the field of shoddy mounds. The rain had ended a couple days ago. He'd spent those two days looking for anyone he may have missed. He's sure there were some who'd never be found. He lowers Ài's casket into the grave before filling the hole with dirt. For some reason, he'd felt like he needed to save her for last. Once he finishes, he tells her goodbye. He leaves the graveyard and takes one final walk through the remains of his old village, staring straight ahead the entire way. He doesn't look back.