The Univited Corpse
When, at the age of fifty eight, Henry Kirby died of eminently natural causes, he was mourned for a seemingly interminable length of time.
For his funeral his friends, relatives and acquaintances came from far and wide to pay their respects. Henry Kirby had been a very respected man.
Death, however, didn’t agree with Henry. Oh, for sure, at first it had been different enough to be interesting and there were lots of new things to do and plenty of new rules to learn and observe. He wasn’t even lonely in the early day. People kept popping round for tea and biscuits and news from the living world.
After a while though, these visits petered out. New arrivals commanded more and more of his erstwhile visitors time and, besides, Henry had never been much of a conversationalist. His brusque and forthright manner was capable of scaring the life out of even the most established of corpses.
Before he knew where he was, Henry found himself all alone, left to quietly rot in peace.
The Uninvited Corpse is published in Different Roads (due to be published in February 2010). To find out more, take a look at… Different Roads
