Stories tagged death

The Bedlam of Essence

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When the house was sold the new owners walked in on what they believed was a former life stopped cold. There on the table remained a half-filled teacup and a well-read magazine lying open from years gone by. A Royal Doulton dish set lay half packed on the

He is dying

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His only sibling had passed a few years back and his mother was the only one left of a gaggle of 7 brothers and sisters and their spouses. The turning of the generations, from birth to grave, was always a bit like the tilling of the ancestral soil. A new

Let Me Drown

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Our local low rent ice-based superhero said he’d had enough and would check back in early spring.

Vartan

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Pulling out your tax records scribbled with your handwriting, Pulling out photos of your best friends, Pulling out writings about my long-gone grandmother,

A Catalogue of Ways to Die at Sea

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Quimby’s eyes lit up. “Oh, lads, there must be a thousan’ ways to die at sea! I’ve made th’ Atlantic passage a good many time; lemme recount some manners of death I’ve witnessed with mine own eyes.”

Your Ex-Lover is Dead

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The Threshold of Unfinished Business

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Uh oh, the dry cleaning ticket

For My Sons, a Poem

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In time, I will forgethow he said "smooshie" for "smoothie"and "eyebrowns" for "eyebrows,"how his upper lip dimpled when he laughedin that uproarious, wild toddler way.How he wheedled to be wrapped and rocked,after a bath, even at age five,his long calves uncovered by…

You Must Know This

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The Yawn

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La Petite Ange had lived all her life in Paris under the strange architectural twists of Notre Dame. She had been a Bluebell girl once, kicking her surprisingly long legs into the air to the delight of plumbers and Prince du…

All the Dead Punks

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my body forgets its own music

Living but Dead, In-between

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You ask yourself, how can you be living but dead? It is not possible. Yet it can be and it can be slightly reversible, but realistically, for most people, it is not. Living but dead, is walking in the world of the in-between. Standing with one foot on the

Eighty-eight

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She realised that things you can't prove can be more intimate than the things you know to be true.

A bollocks of a symbolic gesture

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Dead folk don't wake up desperate for a wee, which reassured me somewhat, despite the fact I couldn't move, couldn't see and must've gone completely deaf, since I couldn't hear a thing. So, not dead. Just buried alive. In which case it hardly mattered…

Mauthausen

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I was feeling a bit introspective. I was busy in my own mind assembling the history of the place and getting ready for the visit. I was naturally not someone who would cluster up with a bunch of people I had just met and had arrived to participate in this