Published: 2025-10-14

The dog barked, and Josefa woke up. She looked from the hill as another truck dumped a load of trash in the dumpster. “Brown, slimy gold.” She said while rubbing her hands. The dumpster covered multiple acres, and each new load represented potential treasure for people like Josefa. From clothes to jewelry, from glass to electronics, the possibilities were infinite.

Dumpster diving was the way of life for hundreds of people on the outskirts of the city. There were no hospitals, schools, or churches. If you were born in the far west end of New Town, your options were very limited: it was dive or die.

Cardboard, crystals, metals, plastic, and electronics were the most coveted items by divers since they could make a quick buck out of them by selling to recycling plants, but items salable directly to consumers were the real prize: clothes, working home appliances, jewelry, and furniture.

Josefa ran downhill and towards the dumpster, her dog following closely with its tongue sticking out. In her way of life, the motto was “first come, first served”. There was no right or fair, everyone had to look out for themselves.

Another truck had started to drop its load as Josefa approached the towering piles of rubbish. “Uh-oh.” She said. As the dump bed arched back and approached a 90-degree angle, a cloud of gray dust engulfed Josefa and her canine companion. She covered her eyes with a hand, and her nose and mouth with the other; the dog, however, had no way of avoiding being hit.

As the cloud dissipated, Billy watched from afar. “Hey Josefa, what are you doing diving through the ashes? Looking for a bone for your dog?” He said while bursting with laughter.

Since cremation has been made into a law, more and more truckloads of ashes have been dumped into the far west dumpster. The law required special methods to dispose of it, but the companies doing the cremation seldom comply.

Josefa shook her head, trying to get the ashes off her brown curly hair; it was futile, the ashes seemed to have penetrated her very self.

“At first, it was only a truck a week; now it’s multiple trucks almost every day. This is gonna end up killing us.” Josefa said, while hugging the dog, which desperately tried to get the ashes out of its eyes.

Nothing but trucks carrying ashes arrived that day. Rita returned home that night without any new treasure. The dumpster has been swept multiple times already; it made no sense to use the energy trying to find something valuable.

Josefa’s house was nothing but two splintered plywood planks pretending to be walls and a thin roof. A plastic curtain at each end made for front and back doors. There was enough space for her and her dog, but she couldn’t stand straight inside. Her possessions were limited: a bug-infested mattress, a radio, which usually lacked batteries, and whatever treasure she had not yet sold. Josefa’s way of life wasn’t the exception, but the rule. This was how everyone lived in far west New Town.

The sound of rain hitting the thin roof made her eyes heavy. “Let’s hope for tomorrow to be a better day.” She said to the dog before closing her eyes.

It was not.

Josefa woke up early and headed for the dumpster. The dirt road was soaked; it may have rained all night. The sky was still gray, maybe more rain was to come? That was bad news for a dumpster diver; she may have to wait in the rain for a truck to come, and worse, it may not come at all.

Despite how early it was, and the dirt roads being turned into muddy traps, the dumpster was crowded with people.

“The police?” Josefa said while staring at the man in gray uniform.

A police officer talked to the manager of the dumpster, who seemed to be alarmed.

“I’m telling you, we ceased all activity at 6:00 PM as we always do. The gates were closed and the guards were in place; everything was fine. Now the front gate is destroyed, and two of my guards are missing.” The manager said.
“Sir, I need you to calm down; otherwise, I cannot take your statement. Now, couldn’t one of the divers have made this?”
“Are you serious? You’re suggesting those starving rats disappeared two men armed with shotguns? Be real, they’re not any more dangerous than a dog!”

As Josefa approached the scene, she saw the sliding steel door. It was destroyed, as if something had chewed through it. A shark, maybe. Whatever it was, she could not think of a way for a human to have done it.

“I saw it.” Said a familiar voice behind her. She turned around and saw Billy sitting on the muddy floor. His gaze was absent, as if something had sucked the soul out of the jovial man.

“What did you see, Billy?”
“Everything.”
“You know who did this?”

Billy raised his head and looked at Josefa. “I do.”

“You have to tell the manager, if he gets mad, he won’t let us dive.”
“It’s no use.”
“Damn it, Billy, snap out of it. What did you see?”

The back and forth had called the attention of those present, who now stared at Billy and Josefa.

“Alright. I’ll tell you. It happened around 8:30. I needed to take a leak, but the rain wouldn’t stop. I had no choice but to wet myself, one way or another. I ran to the hill to do it in the old tree; the main gate was clearly visible from there. I was doing my business when I heard a gunshot. I guess people wouldn’t notice because of the heavy rain, but I was close. I peeked in that direction, and another shot went off. Then a figure approached the guard and just… ate him.”

People looked at each other in confusion. The story became more and more ridiculous by the minute.

“The other guard,” Billy continued, “had fallen to the floor; he was terrified. The figure approached him and ate him too, then it went for the door and just walked through it. That’s the whole you see in the metal.”

Billy stopped. Nothing but silence came from those present until the police officer erupted in anger.

“Are you going to keep listening to the walking cuckoo clock over there, or are you going to let me do my job? I don’t have all day.”
“It’s the truth.” Billy said.
“Then, Sherlock, since you saw everything, who did it?”

Everyone turned to Billy. That was one piece of information he hadn’t revealed yet.

“It was the ash. An Ash-Man.” He said.
“The what?” Asked the police officer.
“An Ash-Man. A man made of ash.”

Silence turned into laughter. Josefa couldn’t believe what she was hearing, but she knew Billy was no prankster, and he certainly didn’t want any trouble with the police. She looked at the torn sliding door, and her eyes got as big as plates.

“The door. It’s covered in wet ashes.”

THE END.