I was walking down the road towards the river. I really needed to clear my thoughts. The day had been horrible so far.
Not because anything in particular had happened, it was just one of those days when even the things that you love fail to feel significant. I'm sure many have felt the same way.
The river is my haven. Nothing can bother me. The rivers soft flow hypnotizes my brain and suddenly my problems seem so small. That's why I'm was on my way there. I needed something to save me.
There is a small graveyard that I had to pass by. It's usually deserted, as most of the people buried there have been long forgotten. But today I saw someone. It was the gravedigger.
There are many rumors about the gravedigger. His eyes are lifeless, his face is filled with wrinkles and he moves slowly, as if he was a zombie.
As soon as something strange happens around the neighbourhood, many point to the gravedigger. Such a strange and creepy man must be up to no good.
One who digs graves for a living cannot have much humanity left.
But you see, I don't believe the gravedigger is a bad person. He's human, like me. He works so he can put food on his table and keep a roof over his head.
Nobody wants to be the one who digs the graves. But somebody has to do it. And this man took that burden upon himself. He deserves recognition. He deserves praise.
So I stopped on the road and waved to the gravedigger. He looked at me with his empty eyes and lifted his hand slowly in response. I smiled at him, and then I continued towards my haven.