On a rainy summer evening she was struck by lightning. She dropped the umbrella and fell on the glassy street unconscious.
A week later she awoke in a coffin. She heard the priest and the mourners.
‘Shit!’ she thought, ‘They’re burying me alive.’
‘Wait! Stop!’ she shouted.
They were startled.
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Published by Vincent Mars
I write as a way of life: books, blogs, articles, almost-poems. I'm a freelancer, a vegetarian, and I listen to Leonard Cohen and enjoy French films. I'm probably dying, but then so are you, so shouldn't we make the most of our time? Reach out to me and let's make friends.
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There’s never a better opportunity to use swear words than when you’re being buried alive! 🙂 Interesting, claustrophobic story!
You made my day 🙂
That last line is a beautiful understatement.
When can I expect my invisible gift?
I love “glassy street.” You paint beautiful images with words, dear hatted boy.
You often have the power to shock and make me smile
Just found your blog. Very awesome.
Reblogged this on alpaulex.