Marley’s Spirit

Aspects of my death were interesting.
I’d gone to my granddaughter’s pub for a pint at lunchtime. “‘Ello ‘Enry,” says old Malcolm, a ‘regular’, whilst discussing spade design.
Soon I felt unusually tired. “Sorry Malcolm, I need a lie-down.”
Later, I headed to the bookies with Malcolm’s ‘surefire’ tip, ‘Blind Optimism’. Strangely no-one greeted me.
The girl didn’t look up at the counter. “Hello!” I knocked on the glass.
A young man in a patchwork jacket showed surprise. “Henry, you’ve passed over!”
“Passed over, what d’you mean?”
“You’re dead! Didn’t you know?” Everyone turned to look.
“No I’m not!” I threw a sheaf of betting slips in the air. “See!”
The handful of customers ran for the door.
An old man with brylcreemed white hair entered. “Come on Henry lad, time to go!”
I gasped. “Dad! but you’re…dead.”
“We live on… Come along son, there’s folk waiting to meet you…”
Outside, brilliant white light filled the street. There was my auntie Ethel, smiling for once, and my mother too.
A little white dog ran towards me, its tail wagging furiously.
He jumped into my arms and licked my face for the first time in forty years…
Don’t forget to check out some of the other stories on my blog. There are over 100! 

2 thoughts on “Marley’s Spirit

    1. Hello Cari, thank you for visiting my blog again and reading (and liking) a number of stories, particularly some of the older, less-viewed ones. Regarding Marley’s Spirit, it is quite amusing I think but that last line always brings a lump to my throat!

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