Here was the edge of the Old City. High peaks of buildings stood in the far at this raining night, dark and strait. Only a few glims could be found on those buildings, staring as lonely eyes. After he arrived a bus station, Logic waited under the rain shelter for almost an hour. Finally an unpiloted bus going towards his destination came. The bus is half full with only six or seven passengers who were seemingly the inhabitants of the Old City. They were feeling the glum autumn silently.It was all good on the way, until someone recognized Logic. Then all the passengers insisted that he get off the bus. Although Logic argued that he’d paid the credit and got the right to sit in the bus legally. An old man with grey hair tossed 2 coins to him, which are not usually used now. Eventually, he was kicked off.
“Why do you carry a shovel, Meditator?” When the bus left, a passenger headed off the bus window and asked.
“Make a tomb for myself.” Logic answered, being laughed at by the passengers.
Nobody knew that he really meant it.
The rain continued, and no bus would came. Luckily, it was almost the destination. Logic marched ahead shouldering his backpack for about half an hour, and turn away from the driveway to a path. Far away from streetlights, all the thind surrouding became dark.So, Logic took out a flashlight to lit the way. The path became harder and harder to step because of the rain. Logic could hear his soaked shoes squeaked when he stepped. Fell down sometimes, he was stained with mud. He had to use the shovel as a crutch. All he saw ahead was rain and mist, but he knew that he was on the right direction.
After an hour marching in the rain, Logic arrived at the graveyard. Half of the graveyard had been buried by sands, but the other half was still exposed because of the high elevation. Logic looked for a gravestone in the rows of that with the flashlight, ignoring those big and luxurious ones. He read the inscriptions on the small and plain gravestones. Rainwater reflected the light as blinking eyes. In Logic’s eyes, those graves were build at the end of 20th century and the dawn of 21th century before people knew the Crisis. They thought this world they’d been would last forever, absolutely. These people were happy.
He didn’t expect that he could found the wanted gravestone, but actually he did. He recognized it even without reading the inscriptions. Two centuries had passed, but the gravestone had weathered the time and remained new without imprints of time for the rainwash. The for characters “Yang Dong’s Grave” seemed as be caved in yesterday. Beside the grave laid Ye Wenjie’s grave, which is exactly the same as her daughter’s with only name and date of birth and death on it. These two gravestones recalled Logic’s memory about the little stele at Red Bank. They were all built to remember those who were deemed to be forgot.
Logic felt so tired that he sit down next to Ye Wenjie’s grave, but soon he was cold and trembled. Then he stood up with his shavel, and started digging his own grave.
At the beginning, it was easy to dig out the wet earth. As he digging, the earth became hard, and stones were scattered in. He felt that he touched the moutain itself. At this point he learned the powerlessness and the strength of time.In this long period as two centuries, maybe only a thin layer of earth was collected; However, in the longer period of geological time when people hadn’t emerged, this mountain had stood. He digged with difficulty, and intervally rested. The night just witnessed it without be perceived.
After midnight the rain stopped, and clouds broke later. A part of starry sky was exposed. This is the brightest starry sky since Logic had been in this world. Two hundred and eleven years ago, in the dusk he and Ye Wenjie stood here, facing the same starry sky.
Now there were only stars and gravestones in his eyes, however, which are the most proper to symbolize the eternity. At last he was exausted and couldn’t dig any longer. The hole seemed too shallow to be a grave, but now this was the best condition. All he done was a reminder to people that he wanted to be buried here, but the most possible end-result for him was to be burned up to a pinch of dust in a cremator, and his ashes would be discarded to somewhere nobody knew. Whatever. As likely as not he and the whole world would turn into discrete atoms in a cremation that is more powerful.