When the grave speaks

Author's name: Muhammad Mansour Sarhan

The cemetery was eerily quiet and creepy. The graves were randomly distributed. It was pitch black because of the clouds covering the moon, which was trying to sneak through the clouds but quickly disappeared slowly. Every time it rose, the headstones shone brightly.

made of marble in a terrible way

The scent of camphor drifted in from time to time whenever the cool breezes blew, and the thorny plants spread their thorns everywhere, like hedgehogs scattered around the scattered graves. Everything was silent except for one man who was working carefully on a mysterious grave, in addition to the crickets that made sounds like a sad melody, as if escorting the victim to its final resting place.