by Hana K. Lee
The kid paused to catch his breath. He was dying for a smoke, but they were already behind schedule. "Full moon tonight."
The old man paused and looked up. "That was last week. Right now you'd call it a waning moon. Pretty soon it'll fade into a sliver and disappear until the next full moon."
"Oh. I was never good at astrology."
"Whatever." The young man picked up the shovel again. "All I know is that it seems awfully bright. Like a goddamn spotlight. Gives me the creeps."
"We'll be done here in a bit."
After a few more moments, the kid thought his arms were going to fall out of his shoulders. "Do you think this is deep enough?" He didn't want to seem like a wimp, but he couldn't dig anymore.
The old man shrugged. "It'll have to do."
"Good." He thought about lighting up, but the cigarette would have to wait. He rolled the bag into the hole. He didn't want to touch the smaller, dripping bag so he putted it with his shovel. "Poor bastard."
"A shame what they did to his body. He was Catholic, you know."
The kid didn't know what that had to do with anything, but he kept quiet.
The pair crossed themselves and pushed dirt over the two lumps. They worked in silence with their backs turned towards the waning moon.