Dig.
Dump.
Bury.
Cover.
Sometimes a piece of writing begins with an image that won’t leave . . . with fish remains buried in a deep hole. In “Liturgist of the Land: A Single Work Completed,” It was simple and exact: a gravedigger finishing the work in a deliberate sequence: Dig. Dump. Bury. Cover. Nothing added for appearance, just a single work completed.
I realized I was seeing something rare in modern life, no loose thread, no text messages unread, no restlessness to revise the moment. It had the shape and structure of a ritual written directly into the land. In a culture defined by unfinished tasks and constant interruption, that completed act carried power in labor performed with little commentary.
Read the full essay here:
This essay first appeared in Flash the Court.
What did you notice here? I welcome your thoughts.