I have fallen into the bad habit these past few weeks of writing my Friday Fictioneers stories on Tuesday, a full week almost after the picture was released. Last week I had the excuse that I was at a conference in Cancun for most of the week, but this week there is no excuse except the normal extreme busyness of life. Last week I made it into the InLinkz group literally 2 minutes before it closed. This week, for the second time in 3 years, I missed it altogether. Still, here is my story, for what it’s worth. I realize most people probably went for a Remembrance Day/Veteran’s Day theme. I didn’t go that way at all. I wrote this story for someone specific. They know who they are. 🙂
copyright J Hardy Carroll
I pressed my face to the freshly-dug earth. “Don’t leave me, Mom.”
“I didn’t.” The voice was distinct, and came from under the earth.
“You’re dead!”
“I’m chained down here. Dig me up, quick!”
I fled, and spent the evening throwing up.
Something dragged me back.
“You’re not my Mom.”
“You sure? Dig me up.”
“No.”
“Do it!”
Finally, I got a shovel.
There was no body, just a speaker. A man approached. Words like experiment, psychological, hypothesis buzzed through my brain.
The next night, the university’s psychology building mysteriously burned down. Wonder how that fit into their hypothesis.
The Green-Walled Tower 