Intriguing story by Sean Patrick Whiteley reblogged from seanpatrickwhiteley.wordpress.com



Mrs. Tooms was in her garden, tending to her winter flowers, when inside the house, the phone rang. She creaked and cracked as she stood, her bones older than she remembered. She stumbled into her home, trailing dirt through her kitchen and foyer, and yanked the phone from its cradle.

‘Hello, hello,’ she chirped, breathing heavily from her rushing.

‘Mrs. Tooms?’ asked a raspy monotone.

‘Yes, who’s this?’

‘You may not remember me. It’s been over fifteen years. My name is Benjamin Sidley. I’m head caretaker down at Pine Banks Cemetery.’

‘I don’t,’ answered Mrs. Tooms. ‘Remember you, that is.’

‘Well, that’s of no matter.’

‘Why are you calling?’ Mrs. Tooms was eager to return to her flowers.

‘Unfortunately, my reason for calling is to deliver some bad news.’

Mrs. Tooms waited.

‘It is with a heavy heart that I tell you that your husband’s grave has been desecrated…’


View original post 479 more words


  1. One of my sons wants to be buried (if ever) with a land-line phone. As for me, I was looking at someone cooking recently and wished my dad could be cooking again in front of my eyes. His last living sister told me it would hit me at odd times.
    She was right.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you for coming by, Marleen! I must say I agree with your son, my worst possible situation would be finding myself in a coffin under ground. Cremation is the thing for me, I think;)


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s