He wasn't a man many people had wanted to be around, though, he wasn't really human.
Joe was quite the dead man.
That was what he was called too
Dead Man Joe.
Or, the dead man who wields a shovel.
A gravedigger, if you will.
Joe was not a kind man, especially to others who reminded him of his own foolish, self-serving younger self.
He'd never personally killed a person, but he'd come close, once.
The man's name was Robert, he had been shoplifting for the fifth time in one week. How none of the authorities-or the shop owners- never caught the guy was a question without answers. Anyways, Joe stopped the guy and told him to give the store back what he had stolen.
The guy sneered in Joe's face and pushed past him.
To say that Joe's non-existent blood boiled would have been a great understatement. Joe then confronted Robert again, only to be repaid with the same treatment.
Each time Joe saw Robert, he would stop him, and ask him-as kindly as possible- to give the stuff back, and each time, Robert would sneer, spit at Joe's feet, push past him, or simply not even listen to Joe.
Until Joe had enough.
His shovel was at his side, held in a firm grip, his hollowed eyes void of all emotion except pure rage.
After that, Robert was a changed man.
And not buried six feet under.
Joe was not a good man, and he would never see himself as anything but that.
And yet the people rejoiced, for the word had spread of Joe's good deed.
Everywhere he went, people would congratulate him.
And he despised every second of it.
YOU ARE READING
A Dead Man Who Held A Shovel
ActionDead Man Joe is a character of mine and I sorta just felt like putting some snips of his story over here, this isn't in chronological order and is deferent events that have happened in Joe's life. Feel free to read, or don't your choice.
