Thief River Falls

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Down, down, down comes the rain of black dirt, landing in showers on the boy’s small body and slowly burying him in the ground.

Already, two inches of heavy earth weigh on his arms. His skin is cold. His face is wet with tears and blood. Nervously, he cracks his eyes to look up while he can still see anything at all. It is dark in the hole, where the glow of the moon can’t reach him. The men are shadows above him, working like machines. He hears the scrape of metal and rock as they wield their shovels. They whisper to each other, and he can hear their words over the loud noise of their breathing.

“I hate this, man. He’s just a kid.”

“Do you think I like it? There’s no other way.”

“Yeah, but a kid. That’s not why we did this.”

“Be quiet and finish the job. We’re wasting time.”

“What if someone finds them, man? I’m telling you, we didn’t dig deep enough. Someone might find both of them, and then what happens?”

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