A Dead Man Who Held A Shovel

Children Are Always Easier

Kindness was never his strong suit, but most of the time he found it easier to be kind when children were around.

That reminds him of a time long ago: he had been alive still around the age of ten. He met two kids, one boy, one girl. Apparently they were twins, born within twenty seconds of each other. The boys name was Tomas, and the girls name was Sabrina.

The three of them would meet up at a specific location each day, that location changed when someone spotted them together.

When all three were together, they would play games, tell stories or even tease the old geyser who walked around town.

They had fun. For a time.

When Joe turned thirteen, he had to stay inside more, and the times he went out where to either go to work or buy food.

Yet, the twins didn't let that stop them from pestering him.

They would stand outside his door every morning, big smiles on their faces, take a hold of Joe's hands, and pull him out the door giggling all the while.

Other times, he wouldn't see them until he had finished his work for the day and was heading home. On thoses days, the twins would walk with him for a bit before suddenly bolting into bushes.

Though they did these things, they also did others: when Joe could't carry everything or was too tired to do a job in the asked amount of time, the twins would help.

From pulling weeds, to helping move furniture, whenever he couldn't do something by himself, Joe knew those two would be there to lend aid.

When Joe turned seventeen, the twins hadn't stopped helping him.

When he was twenty-four, the twins had moved.

Not of their own volition of course.

Their parents had gotten job offers in a bigger town, not run amok by hobos or thieves. So in the span of two days the family had packed up and left.

Joe helped of course.

Since the twins knew him so well, and both parents trusted him, they asked for his furniture moving expertise. . . The twins' words, not theirs.

After they were all ready and had gone on their way, Joe couldn't help but feel alone again, like he had so long ago.

As he finished reminiscing on the memories, he looked at the frail frame of two lonely children.

One boy.

One girl.

With a heavy sigh, he beckoned them closer.

With that, he took them to get some food in their bellies and somewhere warm to sleep.

He'd done something good, and instead of hating it, it warmed his rib cage: there was nothing better than helping kids in need.