It had rained most of the day and with the deluge a chill spread across the land. By nightfall a pony could see his breath in the dim moonlight. It was the same light that stretched the shadows of the cemetery’s headstones toward a pit cast in an amber glow. On the edge of the freshly dug grave stood Keeper, a pony whose mottled fur of brown and gray fit his job that night. He was about fifty and occasionally fired a stream of tobacco juice into the pit where his assistant continued to deepen the hole. “You jerk,” growled the assistant, “That one almost got me!” “Quit yer belly achin’ lad,” fired back Keeper, “You’ve got feet to go yet.” The assistant gazed at Keeper through round dark glasses. From behind them Keeper could feel the glower. Keeper leaned on his shovel as he looked down at the pony in the pit. He wondered how the lad kept the scarf up as well as he did and but was certain as to the reason he smelled an over abundance of cologne wafting from within. “Had plans did ye? Young colt like you always has plans.” The assistant said nothing and continued to dig. The sound of steel in soil was his only response for the better part of an hour. By the assistant’s count he’d dug another two feet before he stopped and arched his back until it popped loudly. “So, who’re we putting here?” Keeper spit another stream of tobacco into the pit, this time away from his assistant. “Filly named Edel Weiss or maybe that’s all one word. Famous you know,” said Keeper who then promptly spit the rest of his chaw onto the grass next to him. “Never heard of her.” “Aye well lad she held a very important record. For a decade and a half she kept her virginity,” Keeper smiled a tobacco stained grin, “Not a bad record for this vicinity.” “Be serious would you.” “Aye but I am. Tragic what happened to her though,” said Keeper as he averted his eyes, “Run over by a Linenblücher cart while drunk on the same. She was no more than twenty-two the way I hear it.” Keeper looked into the hole, “Looks like seven feet deep give or take an inch.” “So, I’m done,” asked the assistant. “Two more feet,” replied Keeper, “I started it but you’ve got youth and energy on your side my lad. You can finish it.” “Six is normal!” “So’s listenin’ to yer boss which is me,” growled back Keeper, “Now keep digging.” The pair fell into silence again. The sound of the assistant’s shovel scraping along the dirt was the only notable sound. Soon the wind picked up and whistled among the stones and markers. Keeper pulled his jacket tighter about him and gazed along the many rows and sighed. By now he knew the names of most of the markers. Some of them had been friends. Keeper lowered his eyes to the ground and hid his melancholy from the wind. He’d hated to do it. However, the job required him to do so and he did it to the best of his ability. “It seems a shame,” said the assistant as he dug. “What does,” said Keeper. “What happened to Edel? I bet she had plans and loved ones beyond what you’ve described. It must be hard for…” “How deep are you?” The assistant looked about himself, “I don’t know I’m going to have to jump to get out and you’ll have to lend a hoof to pull me out.” “Deep enough then,” said Keeper as he beckoned, “Up lad.” First the assistant tossed his shovel out of the pit. Then he reared back and jumped, his front hooves catching the lip of the grave. For a moment he struggled to pull himself up until he looked up and saw Keeper raise his shovel. “What are…” Without a word Keeper brought the shovel down hard across the forehead of his assistant sending him back into the grave. Keeper dropped one of the lanterns by where he’d fallen, its dim light revealed the partially rotted face and missing eye of the assistant. The assistant moaned, “It wasn’t fair I was supposed to marry when I got ill. I was cheated!” “Life ain’t fair lad, but the dead ain’t allowed rise either,” said as Keeper raised a large stone and dropped it on the corpse. Then, quietly he finished the job.