Goose bumps on his purple skin. He heard the motor rumbling, but at such distance he could not distinguish if it were a yellow Caterpillar, or a green John Deere. The person in the white lab-coat running around in muddy boots, must be the archeologist leading the excavations. What precious treasures could they be digging out? He strolled closer; water was spewing out from the bottom of the hole. 

The rumbling ended as he stopped scratching his balding head, his pale fingers with bloody skull skin under his fingernails. He forgot what he was digging into his ever-vanishing memories for.