A presence amongst the foliage. The lips on her mouth slightly parted. Her speech veiled by the front of her face. Watching the other women scrabble at the surface of the earth. The partially decomposed leaves. The soil under frantic fingers. On the hem of their skirts. One a little younger than the other. Both panting from the journey. The younger one wipes the perspiration from her brow, but the older one allows the beads of sweat to sit on her face, a faint hallow in the moonlight. Once they break the surface the soil comes away easily. The younger woman digs faster. When hers is deep enough she helps her companion. If they’d only dug a little deeper. The older woman crawls in. The younger one gazes after her, but soon she climbs into her own hole. The voyeur steps into the clearing. Where the exertion seems to have diminished the two diggers, it would appear the voyeur has swollen with their efforts. Similarly the holes are larger than they first appeared. The voyeur stands at the rim and peers in. She can just make out the older woman. Sleeping. Soundly.