Graveyard Story

A note: This was written from a prompt a while ago, but is one of my favorite shorts that I've done in a while.  

"Doesn't it always seem like all graveyards should be wreathed in fog," Gladys said to nobody in particular as she hobbled down the gravel pathway through the grass patches.  "There should be fog... and moonlight." she continued, "but they don't let us out in the nighttime at that old home of mine, and California is no good for fog in August, even if you are in San Francisco."  

She took a left at a particular fork in the path, keeping to the path for a while more and then cutting across the grass.  She greeted the headstones as she passed old friends. "Well, Joseph and Edith. It is so good of you to visit.  I hope things are going well for you down wherever you are."  She chuckled to herself and remembered how Joseph pinched her bottom every time he stood to let her by into the pew at church.  That was before his heart had given out while he was laying on top of Mabel Merryweather.

"Good to see you too, Moses and Rachel."  Their tombstone not only listed their dates of birth and death, but the dates of their marriages and the life spans of their seven children.  Too bad only three of the children had been Moses's.  The other four had fathers of various patronage from around the village.

She came at last to the headstone that she knew best of all, her sister, Clarice. There was a bench near the tombstone and she laid her cane across the seat of the bench and sat on the edge, bending forward to adjust the wrinkles in her support stockings. As she did this, she spoke to the headstone.

"Well, Clarice. Looks like I'm about to join you.  The doctor said I have cancer now, and that it's eating my bones, and has spread into my brain.  he says I have maybe a week to live, and I thought I would come out here and say goodbye to you, since I'm not likely to get another visit."  She fidgeted with her shoe laces, tied expertly that morning by the nurse, and smiled. "I beat you though. I beat you by twenty years, and I got to keep Albert for another ten after you were gone.  Looks like I won after all."  She turned her head and looked around her and then stood to walk towards the tombstone.

"Funny thing," she said, as she placed her hand on the tombstone and patted it. "They call these headstones, but they don't go to the head. They go to the feet.  Your head should be right about" she walked about 5 paces and then turned. "here." She set her feet wide.  "I'm standing on your head, Clarice. Remember how I used to do that when we were pretending to be acrobats for the circus. We always swore that we would run away to the circus together when we were old enough to take care of ourselves." 

Gladys grabbed at the hem of her skirt and began to hike it up until it turned inside out and covered her rather ample bosom. "We were always going to do everything together, but then, you went and got yourself pregnant, and dashed our dreams forever.  And you got yourself knocked up" she grabbed the band of her underwear and pushed them down past her hips.. "by my Albert.  Do you think I would ever forgive you for that?" 

She bent forward and sent the hot yellow stream down onto the grave where her sister's head would be.  It wasn't much, as she still had an old lady's bladder, but it was enough, and she hiked her underwear back up, pushed her skirt down and stomped on the now slightly yellower ground.

"I hope, dear sister, that you are rotting in hell.  Who knows, maybe we'll see each other again.  But I won't be back, and I'm glad that you're dead and I made it longer than you, you fucking hussy."

She hobbled back to the bench, grabbing her cane and began making her way towards the pathway again. "Hope you enjoyed the show, Albert." she said to the tombstone that sat next to her sisters.  "Sorry I didn't save enough for you."