Graveyard Thieves -synopsis-
Humans are like words that have many other meanings more than a single meaning they refer to. Even I myself can't claim that I know you, although I can read your minds, seep into the dark tunnels of your subconscious like a "thief". Noone expects you to be perfect but it is true that you display a relatively vast panorama from being avarage to being filthy. I see that your ambitions often lead you to your deaths. Like those two thieves I met in the graveyard on that winter's night. They were there that night to make their riches in an easy way... I had to teach them practically that there existed such values in life that money couldn't buy. My students had to stay late for home after class....
It was a cloudy night, as the moon was blinking an eye among those clouds. The old watchman had already locked the door of the graveyard and begun to take an easy nap after the dinner. He used to open up his eyes and peer around in every little noise he heard as his sleep was not so heavy, he also took a short trip with his torch in the graveyard whenever he required. He loved the dead because they no longer meant any harm to anyone, he prayed for them to have a peaceful rest in their last sleep. He had never met a "ghost" like me and never believed in one. He believed in God and that was enough for him most of the time. He had lost his wife, children and everything he had in a fire but he had thought that God gave him a second chance, he had never thought of a rebellion against Him. Sometimes he sat by the graves of little ones and talked to them, his eyes got wet with the memory of his own children.
When the thieves broke into the graveyard reaching over the high walls, I was lying over the roof of a mausoleum watching the sky. They could easily see me if they realized at first sight that I wasnt one of the many statues in the cemetery. I was there to visit an old friend whom I had lost long time ago, when I had been one of you, a human. I sometimes heard that his picture among the pictures of his father and mother talked to me, maybe it was because I still felt the need to talk with him, a sort of halucination. But the cemetery was so silent on that night, although the thieves were very quiet it was so easy for vampire ears to hear their noise. They moved to the middle of the graveyard, I could make it out that they moved easily through the darkness like a vampire. But they couldnt even feel me watching. The young one asked: "Are you sure this is the right one bro? They all look the same in the dark". The other one whispered: "Be quiet, let's not wake the watchman up, this is the place described, you counted your steps right? The lady said fifty-four steps exactly".
The door of the mausoleum which they were about to break in had been left open, it seemed that all had been planned. One of the owners of the grave had hired these two thieves and during her last visit, she had measured the distance of the grave to the cemetery walls and had forgotten to close the door on purpose. As far as I read from the thoughts of the thieves, it was planned by a widowed wife who needed money. She wanted the antiques left by the family of her dear husband which were ordered in his will to be placed in the mausoleum. The watchman would possibly lose his job after this theft. The thieves got into the mausoleum and filled their sacks with the goods, when they moved to the entrance they found that the door wouldnt open. They were trapped in the dark and were afraid. They shouldnt cry out for help, as the old watchman would give both of them to the police. However they did. In fear they tried in vain to see the death with their glassy eyes which coldly clung upto their throats. The watchman opened up his eyes hearing the hoarse sound emanating out of the dark. It could well be a nightmare, like the life now and then. The things I've told and I will tell are as real as I am.
It was a cloudy night, as the moon was blinking an eye among those clouds. The old watchman had already locked the door of the graveyard and begun to take an easy nap after the dinner. He used to open up his eyes and peer around in every little noise he heard as his sleep was not so heavy, he also took a short trip with his torch in the graveyard whenever he required. He loved the dead because they no longer meant any harm to anyone, he prayed for them to have a peaceful rest in their last sleep. He had never met a "ghost" like me and never believed in one. He believed in God and that was enough for him most of the time. He had lost his wife, children and everything he had in a fire but he had thought that God gave him a second chance, he had never thought of a rebellion against Him. Sometimes he sat by the graves of little ones and talked to them, his eyes got wet with the memory of his own children.
When the thieves broke into the graveyard reaching over the high walls, I was lying over the roof of a mausoleum watching the sky. They could easily see me if they realized at first sight that I wasnt one of the many statues in the cemetery. I was there to visit an old friend whom I had lost long time ago, when I had been one of you, a human. I sometimes heard that his picture among the pictures of his father and mother talked to me, maybe it was because I still felt the need to talk with him, a sort of halucination. But the cemetery was so silent on that night, although the thieves were very quiet it was so easy for vampire ears to hear their noise. They moved to the middle of the graveyard, I could make it out that they moved easily through the darkness like a vampire. But they couldnt even feel me watching. The young one asked: "Are you sure this is the right one bro? They all look the same in the dark". The other one whispered: "Be quiet, let's not wake the watchman up, this is the place described, you counted your steps right? The lady said fifty-four steps exactly".
The door of the mausoleum which they were about to break in had been left open, it seemed that all had been planned. One of the owners of the grave had hired these two thieves and during her last visit, she had measured the distance of the grave to the cemetery walls and had forgotten to close the door on purpose. As far as I read from the thoughts of the thieves, it was planned by a widowed wife who needed money. She wanted the antiques left by the family of her dear husband which were ordered in his will to be placed in the mausoleum. The watchman would possibly lose his job after this theft. The thieves got into the mausoleum and filled their sacks with the goods, when they moved to the entrance they found that the door wouldnt open. They were trapped in the dark and were afraid. They shouldnt cry out for help, as the old watchman would give both of them to the police. However they did. In fear they tried in vain to see the death with their glassy eyes which coldly clung upto their throats. The watchman opened up his eyes hearing the hoarse sound emanating out of the dark. It could well be a nightmare, like the life now and then. The things I've told and I will tell are as real as I am.
posted by StreetPoet at 1:42 PM
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