Member-only story
Thieves at the Cemetery — Short Story
This is a short story based on an event that happened to my parents and grandmother. To my young ears, it was so dramatic, but I wasn’t there to know what exactly happened. Here is a version that I came up with as my family dealt with the thieves at the cemetery.
“Bring the basket, John.” Sylvia motioned toward the back of the pickup as she headed in the direction of the wrought iron gate.
John chuckled as he reached over the side of the truck and picked up not just one basket, but two. He glanced over his shoulder as Marie picked up the large blanket from the truck bed.
“A woman in charge,” he commented as he turned around with both baskets in his hands.
“You have no idea,” Marie mumbled. “At least she likes you.”
“Does she?” He wasn’t so sure.
They moved to follow the older woman through the gate and into the old cemetery. The gate creaked as John used his foot to pull it open for both of them to walk through. The aroma of honeysuckles accosted them as they stepped into the well-manicured place of rest.
“Yes. She hasn’t slammed the door in your face yet.”
They walked between the headstones. John could see Sylvia at the far side of the cemetery at a section behind the old church. “She wouldn’t do…
