“Why’s that?” The other existence asked.
“I wear upon’t know.” The bandana man replied. “There’s something near this place that really… you know, has a really bad ‘ breeze’ or whatever. I swear, El Diablomust have been near this place.”
“Oh, stop. You’re just imagining things.” The other man reassured. “It’s really no big deal. Just ignore it.” His words were far from reassuring.
“Hey! Someone, move up over here! I think I engraft something!” Somebody cried out. The bandana man and the one he’d been speaking with ran over to the direction of another man, a teenaged man with many tattoos who was standing on top of a concrete piece of wall from a building, looking down. goat him was one of the machinery that had been getting rid of the rocks. “Look at that!”
“What is it?” The man with the bandana asked. They all stood in the same place, eyes avocation the spot that the other man was pointing at.
In between the detritus was a single white hand sticking out, unironed and obsolescent.
Strangely, it wasn’t scratched nor decayed, despite the fact that weeks had passed since the incident. “It’s somebody’s body.”
“I thought they recovered all the bodies!” The bandana man said. “Somebody get rid of those rocks! NOW!” Everyone dropped what they were doing and did as they were told, scampering to the adjacent machinery and lifting up ever single broken remnant that interred the body.
Once it was finished, everyone stared in awe at the potentiometer, removing their hard-hats at the sight before them. There was a perfectly preserved old man underneath the rubble, unscathed by it all, his icy-gray eyes colossal open,...If you want to get a full essay, order it on our website: Ordercustompaper.com
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