Nothing

Completely silence for the next hours or days, no one can be sure about the time that passes inside a coffin on earth. Paradoxically, closer to heaven but further from the sky.

Silence

...and suddenly inside the coffin there was silence. Silence filling the remains of that polluted air that was trapped inside the last address of the corpse there in a rest. Silence like the one felted by the dead body when it was a living person, when alone crossing the mountains in search for peace, or lying at some beach on a peaceful summer afternoon.

Being Filled

...and the coffin was handling quite well all that dirt falling and covering the box down bellow. Inside it, the corpse was trembling at each sound, at each bunch of dirt being thrown, finally covering the whole pit.

From the Deep

Buckets of dirt were calling the dead, pieces of old and destroyed stone were falling into the wooden box bellow. It was midday and the summer breeze was swinging through all the flowers in the graveyard. The sound of it was slight and mellow, the rhythm of the shovel going up and down, back and forth, was filling the air with death.

The First Post

This is the first post, from the decadence of a life time. Our body awakes from the bed in the autopsy room, looks at the window and smiles. The crows are not singing anymore.