There’s nothing new about war. Indeed, peace is not nearly as common. But this was a bitter war that lasted for years upon years. It was a war where brother fought brother and sometimes streets and homes were battlefields as well.
The one place of peace was the grave yard and the grave digger found no rest, even though he was not a part of any fighting. The handle of his shovel grew shiny with wear as he worked day and night.
Then came the day that the grave digger looked up from a grave to see Death in half s dusty long coat.
‘Is it time for the war to be over?’ he asked.
‘Only for you.’
‘That will have to do.’