Friday March 16th, 2012

The exercise:

Four lines of prose about: after life.

Kat and I attended an information session for vegetable farmers this morning, put on by the main local supply store. It was a bit overly focused on chemical solutions to pests and weeds for our tastes, but there was still some useful stuff.

Plus it was good to meet and hang out with other farmers in the area.


For the vast majority of humans, after life comes death. What happens after death, I understand, is a matter of some debate.

I'm one of the lucky ones, I suppose, since after my life on Earth came... more life. Good luck for me and very, very bad luck for those who stuck me six feet deep and expected me to stay put.


Greg said...

The information session does sound interesting, and socialising is always good!
Heh, it's the 'expected me to stay put' line that really gives your piece its kick today!

After life
The priest was prattling on about some zombie called Jesus and promises of a Kingdom of Heaven with a door-policy and no roller-skating. LaTurf's mother was practically mouthing the words along with him, and LaTurf was looking bored and texting. The other ladies of the church were alternating with looking pious and disapproving, and their husbands were various shades of asleep.
If this was life, and that was the after-life, I was definitely sticking to hoping for reincarnation.

Anonymous said...


She sat in her chair, staring into space.
Then she focussed her gaze on me intently and asked,
“Tell me, do you believe in the after-life?”
Sitting opposite her in her dead husband’s chair with his spirit poised and ready to speak through me, yelling her name in my ear, I answered, “Yes, absolutely.”
And I say again, yes, absolutely.

Watermark said...

After life

Tiny fingers instinctively wrapped itself around her thumb. The new born was cradled in her arms, its tiny chest rising and falling, seemingly trying to get used to breathing in their new life. A soft caress on the face of the one who could make her believe in a life after a life. It was possible; she knew it now, to start over.

Anonymous said...

Mustafa found himself in the Bardo, yet again, and heaved a rather all consuming sigh. He made eye contact with a few of the others that were wandering about near him and recognized them from precious go arounds, even if they didn't look the same.

“Well,” he said to no one in particular. “This is starting to get annoying seeing as how this time around I was just starting to look forward to an afterlife and not another bloody 'in between' life.”

Krystin Scott said...

Zendaya followed Brazil inside the small gypsie caravan. She looked around the tiny space taking notice of the colorful tapestries that adorned the red velvet walls. The hanged man appeared in one, the devil in another, but not all were so sinister. Images of the sun, the moon, and the symbols of cups, wands, swords and pentacles were also present.

Taking the seat nearest the door Zendaya nervously asks, "Okay we're here. So now are you going to tell me why drug me all the way down to Jersey shore?"

Brazil sighed. "Mr. Watson my Philosophy teacher says those who do not learn from their history are doomed to repeat it. He says that means that we get opportunities to learn from our mostakes. Then when we're presented with the same problem over again we can make a better decision. So I am going to ask Madame Gabrielle about my past. We're here for a lesson in history," Brazil says excitedly.

Bewildered Zendaya says, "So let me get this straight, you drug me on a 30 minute bus ride to Jersey so you could have a carnival fortune teller tutor you in history? Are you freaking nuts?"

Marc said...

Greg - '... various shades of asleep' is a great, great line :)

Writebite - I like the repetition in the final line, it's very effective.

Watermark - lovely, calming little scene :)

GZ - the sense of resignation and resentment coming from Mustafa is nicely conveyed.

Krystin - that's definitely a creative way to go about learning history! I like it :)

Cathryn Leigh said...

After Life

She was always late in life. It didn't matter what the event was. She was even late to her own funeral. Her husband should have known it wouldn't be different in the after life.

Inspired by the fact I'm late. No nap times on the weekends means little net time. :}

Krystin Scott said...

Cathryn - that is so me.... weekends make it hard.. its spring break here so ive got the whole. tribe for almost 2 weeks.

Mine was about past lives. Reading it today im not sure that was totally clear.

Marc said...

Cathryn - I can relate to that as well. If I'm not late for my own funeral everyone will think they brought the wrong body!

Krystin - I don't know about anybody else, but that was clear to me. So no worries :)