Joan Morton has a buried secret.
|Joan Morton was worried. It was digging up that same spot in the backyard again. It seemed every day she would fill in the hole and the next morning a new and deeper one awaited.
At least now she knew what was doing it. The rain of the previous evening left the ground muddy and that mud was full of coyote tracks.
'You wanted a house next to woods.' she lamented.
She looked into the world of trees and thicket: She liked it in the daytime. It was pretty, even beautiful. At night it was different, full of sneaky things like coyotes.
When did they even get here? The question kept running through her head. They didn't seem to be around when she was a kid. Of course, that was decades ago. Now everybody on the block had at least one coyote story.
'Filling in the hole and then putting rocks on top might make it give up.' she reasoned. It sounded like alot of work. She was less than enthused at the prospect.
'Too bad Better Homes and Gardens doesn't offer pieces about the proper disposal of murdered husbands.' she thought, breaking into a giggle.
With her mood lightened, she went to the shed and put on her work gloves. The woods were full of good sized rocks and there was at least two hours of light left in the day.