Broken stones and a iron gate closing the entrance with a name placard that the name is worn off.
Old Crypt, Graveyard
a large black vulture
gravedigger
I am low paid labor in this town. I do a job that many people shun because of my contact with death. I am very lonely and wish I had someone to talk to who isn't dead.
Ahh what a horrid life. Why do you say that? Everyone shuns me for my work. That seems unreasonable, it is simply a job. My association with death puts them off. Perhaps in that we are the same. Yes I can see that, we are similar. A living is a living though, we all have to do it. Yes but I need the money but I am all alone because of it. I would say that sometimes solidarity can build personal strength. Yes but too much will cause so much pain. Sometimes mountains of sorrows give us wisdom though.