Dawn’s glowing light doesn’t do much to hold the tide of sleep at bay, but you can’t afford to get caught here. You chuck your shovel in the backseat and begin to drive.
It won’t stick for long. It never has. The corpse has always shambled back.
For now, though, you have time. You can relax. You sigh, adjust the rearview mirror–
shit fuck shit fuck shit
Its eyes meet yours. “You tried to bury me,” your sister says.
“You just nearly fucking crashed the car and then we’d both be dead, you cunt,” you snap, slow your breathing. “Couldn’t you have waited?”
It giggles, and it takes everything in you not to swerve the car into a tree.
“You’re stuck with me,” the corpse says, strange tone to its voice.
“Out, damned Spot.”
“What, are you Lady Macbeth now?”