The graveyard robber prowled through the open gate, shovel in hand, eyes scanning for recent burials or elderly burials from at least twenty years back.

The robber’s greedy eyes lock on a shiny stone protruding up from the ground like a rotting finger from a dead hand.

It was shaped as a mason jar, painted fireflies dancing about on the stones face. The chiseled words tell the robber that the lady lying beneath is twenty five years old and died two years ago.

The man puts his shovel into the dirt and tosses a shovel full of dirt to the side. He continues this motion until his shovel clunks against something with a hard THUNNK!!

He stops and kneels, continuing to scrap the remainder away with his hands, until a pale pink casket surfaces. He fights the metal case halfway out of the ground, and prys the lid open, pale pink paint chipping and drifting to the ground as he pops the three locks holding the lid.

He steps back and nudges it open with his toe, covering his nose before the smell of rotting flesh can assault his nose.

A woman sits up in the casket, all bones and dried flesh. She smiles, her rotted lips pulled back in what seems to be a grimace, but the robber knows is a smile. Stunned, he watches as the woman stands and hands him a velvet bag.

“I believe-“ her jaw crackles and squeaks like a rusty hinge. She pauses working her jaw loose. “I believe this is your reward for saving me. I was told a handsome young man would come to my aid.”

The robber doesn’t believe his eyes! The dead has begun to talk to him. Never before had this happened! Usually they lay still while he rummages amongst their belongings, pocketing valuables.

“Why, don’t stand there boy! Get up and dance! Open the pouch, let’s get this over with!”

The robber shakily opens the red pouch, peering in before thrusting three fingers inside. They wound around a box, in which he pulls from its spot nestled amongst soft padding.

He pops the box open. Inside, nestled amongst more soft cushion is a diamond ring.

“Before I died, my boyfriend was going to propose,” the woman says softly. “And now I have you. Now you can propose.”

“Don’t you think this is going a little too fast?” The robber tugs at his collar as though the midnight air has escalated to a higher temperature. “I mean, I have to think about this. That takes time, and… and work.”

The woman looks upon him and smiles. She nods, agreeing with him. From then on, the robber and the ghostly woman meet up every night.

They take long walks through the cemetery, laughing about things they’ve done in their pasts. The robber learns to love the rotting smell radiating from his bony skeleton girlfriend.

On one particular night, he proposed under the glittering full moon. She said yes. After that, they lie on the grass, exchanging kisses. The robber ran his hands through the dead girl’s knotted, wormy hair, ignoring the fleas that bit him angrily.

He would stare into her empty sockets for years on end. Twin voids, brightened by the moon. He would watch her jaw work along every word.

And he still heard that familiar squeak.