By Tim Goldstone
The first time they buried me alive, I was cross. Wouldn’t you be? It’s a situation that doesn’t lend itself to optimism. It’s dark, and cold, with nothing to eat. (In case you’re wondering, they’re correct about the maggots and worms.)
The second time they buried me alive wasn’t as bad, as this time I knew how to get out. They never guess how I do it, because they don’t know I’ve done it at all. And I kept doing it. Which is why there’s no more space in this town to bury people—the cemeteries are filled with me.
Good one, Tim!
Really excellent enigmatic story. Got to be one of the best I’ve read here.
Sorry, I didn’t get this. I don’t know what “do it out” is alluding to.
It was a typo – fixed now. Thanks for reading!
Liked it !!!
Me too on the “They’ll never guess how I do it out” and I’m guessing it was a typo that no one caught.
It was a typo – fixed now. Thanks for reading!
Hi Tim, I love the vibe. BTW, are we cousins (Den & Geoff Goldstone)? If so, it would be good to reconnect as I’m researching our family WWII history.