Hours later and Angela had the entirety of the daisies planted and various other of the seedlings she’d bought. Her arms ached and her back muscles throbbed, but she wanted to get it done. Especially if heavy rains were on the way.
She looked over again at the shed and doubted the things she thought she’d heard. She’d heard rumors on the edges of conversations other people had about her house, but she knew nothing herself. She could go to the library or maybe even a local real estate office, but part of her didn’t want to hear the truth of the house’s history. Like a person with a fear they have cancer avoiding the doctor because they’d rather live with the lie instead of owning the truth. Knowing made it too real.
Angela pushed herself up…show more content… Pulling her glove off, she put her finger in the hole and felt around. It felt smooth, but covered with the dark brown, moist garden earth. She tried getting it with her fingers, but it wouldn’t come.
Grabbing the trowel, she inched it along the edges of the object, simultaneously trying to get under it and pull up. Finally coming partway loose, she plucked it out with her fingers and saw it was a shard of something. Sharp looking on one side, it was a weird off-white color and hard. An arrowhead?
She dug further into the dirt, concentrating at the spot where the shard had come from. Soon she was pulling several other small, whitish objects from the ground and saw them for what they were. They were bones, fairly small, and she found herself wondering if perhaps someone had buried their poor pet out in the…show more content… Right below where she’d pulled the skull out. She edged closer and saw it was fabric of some kind, a dusky blue color. There was a pattern in the weave, but she couldn’t tell what it was with the dirt still mostly covering it.
I don’t wanna reach in there again.
It was a grim thought. Last time a fucking skull had come from the hole. What else could be in there? And what if someone came into the yard? Like the mailman did.
She forced herself to her feet and surreptitiously looked down the street both ways, as far as she could see down Bishop and Walsh, to make sure no one was coming. No one in sight. She walked over to the hole and knelt beside it.
Reaching in, she quickly realized she’d have to pull pretty hard to dislodge it from its earthly tomb. Working it first one way and then the other, it pulled free in a shower of dark soil. She shook it, then held it in front of her. It was a dark and bleak shade of blue, but it had once been an exquisite dress. The only other thing besides the stain of earth marking it was the huge bloodstain running from the shoulder down the front of
