1827 November, 2
Phillip could not join me tonight. Lady Fingers had some special on the mead, so he be over there, gettin' all kinds of drunken. I called Leslie, he wasn't too intoxsicated,yet. He could at least hold the tools.
The dirt had recently settled, but only took about twenty minutes to pick through. The the boards were well secured on the casket, but luckily Schirelda, me crowbar, she's tougher than any hunk of wooden plank.
One push, but the cover simply splintered. I had to hammer Schirelda with the shovel to get a good fix on the damn thing, but got it off, I did, eventually. The corpse looked like my aunt Sonya, but she was buried four towns over. I'm not saying she was still in her box, but I'm saying she is four towns over.
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