Once upon a time, was living in a lost and wild land, a myopic man. He was a very hard-worker even if very, very myopic. Happened in a foggy day, forgot by a shy sun, that that man suddenly died. He was poor, alone and also unlucky, in fact, when the gravedigger came to take the man, He threw away man’s glasses thinking that to Him they were no longer needed. The gravedigger carried Him on hearse, but at the first bend the body fell to the ground, without the driver noticing. That land was very mysterious and strange and the poor corpse, once on ground, waked and stood up even if He was still dead. He thought “I’m really unlucky, I even have to walk for reaching the cemetery”.
Near Him, there was a factory, a cement-factory, with a big sign at the gate. Unfortunately a lot of letters were much faded and the remaining readable ones were creating a strange word: CEME_T____ORY.
When dead man was close to the gate, He with difficulty started reading the sign without his glasses and then went in, thinking to be arrived to the cemetery.
People around him were all covered by a grey dust, so that They had the same colour of the dead man. He approached to a person and asked Him what had to do. That man, thinking He was a new hired, gave Him an hammer in his hands and went away without say a word.
He looked all around. Everybody was busy and serious and anybody was considering Him. He thought “ I was an hard worker in life, now in death….why not?” and started working.
At the end of the day, when everything was lighted by a golden dusk, people stop working and silently left the factory; but oppositely to the truth the dead man was the only one not to be dead tired.
I guess He's still working there, with the only difference than others that He has the skin with same colours of the cement powder.