Pudge jabbed his shovel into the frozen earth, letting out a sigh as it toppled over, clanking against the headstone.
"Will you cut the shit and just keep digging?" Derrick thrust his shovel back into the fresh grave, grunting as he heaved another scoop of dirt. Fisher's grave was a mess of mud and snow; recent visitors' footprints having left an outline of some macabre dance.
Pudge blew over his blisters, his cold hands as lifeless as the cemetery around them. He stuffed his hands into his jacket searching for a fix. Yellow pills, blue pills, a cigarette; anything to take his mind away from the cold. He came up empty, only finding a candy wrapper which he threw on the ground. His stomach grumbled. "I got blisters, D. Shit, how long do we have to be out here, man? We've been digging for over an hour already." His bloodshot eyes glanced around, shifting from side to side. "Fisher ain't even been buried for a day. We can come back."
