The Graveside: A 99c. Horror Story (99c. Horror Stories Book 15)

It is muddy today, the rain fell hard last night. It washed the grass and the stones from the turf’s surface, it churned through wormholes and pulled clods from the earth. It has stopped for the moment, a pale sun glimmers overhead, trying hard. But it will come again, and again, and more clods will be pulled and more stones will be washed away. But I don’t mind, I am light. My feet glide above the slick, clinging mud, they stay clean of the churning clods.
The edges of the grave are rounded, the rain tempered them into shape last night. The hole gapes, it opens wide for the remains of my father’s form. My wife is here, my teenage children stand in the midst of family, in the midst of their own, virginal, existential crises. Distant cousins and strange uncles and men from the bowls club all hold hats in their hands, they bow their heads. My father’s death weighs heavily on their shoulders, I can see it. They have taken the weight for me, they have come here to allow my lightness.
And now the transformation begins its finale- my feet are leaving the ground, I am rising above these people... I am a ghost in a graveyard, as dead as my father at my feet, and I will haunt this world with all that I have left.