When the big elm in the graveyard fell, up came the skeleton, lifted by the tree’s roots.
It was suspended there in the compacted soil, like a pressed flower.
The skeleton’s arms were raised, as if trying to spook people like a Halloween decoration.
There had never been a marked grave in that part of the graveyard; the fallen tree’s secret reveal seeming to confirm an urban legend of more than two hundred and fifty years, passed down through generations of locals.
As it was told, this was the skeleton of an admiral who had been onboard two of Captain Cook’s voyages.
By the rumours that survived the centuries, when the admiral was not at sea he was known to prey upon the young men of the village, perverted assault with reckless hands.
Some said that the admiral had fled as his reputation caught up with him.
Some said, even though they knew better.
Through the detritus of the storm that brought down the elm, people came to see this grisly, surreal remnant of the past.
Someone pointed out it was strange that the pop-up skeleton’s hands were raised.
For a skeleton’s hands were usually down by their side.
Weren’t they?
But not this skeleton
It was as if the admiral had been trying to climb out of the grave.
vss #57
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Phillip Drown 
😂
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