Friday, March 27, 2015

Cemetery Stroll

“You’ll know him when you see him,” I told my little sister as I gingerly pried one of the coffins open. “Hello?” I called in, the sound reverberating. 
“I think I’ve been dead since ‘98,” a voice called back. “It was the year the Maine sunk. Such a tragedy that one. And such a lovely boat, too.”
“He must be one of the old ones,” I said as I brought the lid down with a thud. “You can’t even smell anything."
"Hannah! Come over here!"
Encased in crystal, there he was, as pristine as the day I first met him.

This short story is a part of the illustrious Flash Fiction Friday. Read the other lovely stories, spun off the prompt: "I think I've been dead since '98." at the links below!

1 comment:

  1. Ooh, this one is super intriguing! I love them talking to the dead, and I'm dying to know (sorry) why they're searching for the one guy in particular.