When there’s no stairway to heaven #writephoto #shortstory #flashfiction

Just had to…



Lucien Potts knew he was dead. It was the next bit he was rather foggy about. Death itself wasn’t a surprise – too much to drink, a narrow road and a firmly rooted beech combined to terminate the breathing part of his existence. It was while he was falling from the fourth branch that he became aware of someone -thing – next to him as he fell. The thing – let’s say ‘person’ because Lucien, in death as much as in life lacked many things – money, charisma, vocabulary – coughed in that waiterly way of wanting attention without any dramatic overreaction.
‘Sir? Mr. Lucien?’

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3 Comments Add yours

  1. TanGental says:

    Steve you are v kind to reblog this!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. stevetanham says:

      As the comment, said, Goeff, just had to…compelling stuff!

      Liked by 1 person

      1. TanGental says:

        Thanks Steve. Memoire is really tricky to nail I find….

        Liked by 1 person

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