THAT LAST WALK THEY CARRIED ME

THAT LAST WALK THEY CARRIED ME

“Don’t think to hard – cause this ain’t gonna turn out well”

I awoke being carried by a half dozen men on a rough-sawn pine board about twelve inches wide and seven feet long. I noticed that I was dressed in my street clothes as they jostled me clumsily to the ground. On each side of me, I watched as they picked up lengths of rope, and the pine board swayed slightly. I felt the sensation of being lowered, then I bumped against something, and a shower of loose dirt and rock gave way.

When the board came to rest, the ropes fell loosely over my body. I blinked. My throat was parched, and I tried to speak. A shovelful of dirt crashed down on my chest. Dust formed a cloud, making it hard to breathe. Another shovelful pelted my legs, and another landed on my stomach.

I tried to speak, but couldn’t form the words. More dirt was being emptied into the hole. It fell on my stomach, my legs, and then one large scoop crashed down hard on my chest with such force that I coughed.

The shoveling stopped.

I heard a voice from above say, “He ain’t dead!”

That is when I saw a smiling face looking down from above.

“Yeah, I know,” he whispered.

-Newt Livesay

(c) 1999 revised 2026 by Newt Livesay Writer, Author

English & Spanish Language Stories and Quotes from the feral mind of Newt Livesay, Author & Writer

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August 29, 2026 Leave a Reply

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