The Groundskeepers

Guests at our backyard parties always noticed patches of grass that were thicker, and corpse shaped. We joked this was an ancient burial ground.

But after a winter of alternating heavy snows and thaws that squeezed the ground like a pimple, bones emerged. The first ones looked like chicken bones. We were horrified when a skull surfaced.

Soon afterward, our old lady neighbor asked why we were digging out back, again.

"Putting in a native garden," I said. "For the environment."

She stomped away disgusted.

My wife said, "Might be a problem."

I put the old snoop under the goldenrods.