– tony.espino –

a human. for now.

22.16 | september

chronicle of an unreliable voice

Folder 34

Cruising in the fast lane…to the grave. Watching life pass me by at 100 mph. It’s all just one big blurry pine tree.

The Phantom Replica sat for hours at the bottom of the grave with his eyes closed. Then, as if by some sort of miracle, he was enveloped in a bright white light and his body lifted from off the ground. He kept his eyes shut. He continued to rise from the grave. The light got brighter and brighter. He levitated in this meditative state further upward until he made it to the top. Then collapsed.
The Phantom Replica’s eyes opened.
Three massive floodlights sitting on a tripod blinded him. He looked down to see a Pair of Old Hands untying a rope around his waist.
“If you’re gonna be hanging around here digging up these folks’ resting spots then I’m gonna have to put you to work.”
The Pair of Old Hands tossed him a shovel.
“You can start by filling in that hole I just pulled you out of. Only reason I pulled you out anyway. Would have just buried you in there if I felt like filling it my damn self.”


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This entry was posted on September 22, 2016 by in books, comedy, fiction, flash fiction, writers, writing and tagged , , , , , , .

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