Life After Death: a story in 60 seconds

Some people pass by before they pass on

“I cut your arm off!” Billy shouted at his younger brother.

Cory glanced at the appendage in question.

“No! I blocked it!” he insisted, shaking the pillow he was using as a shield.

It was an unusually cool August afternoon, and the freshly mowed backyard glowed verdant in the sunshine. 

Billy shrugged and readied himself for another strike. In his right hand was a sword forged from upholstery foam, duct tape, and PVC piping.

He swung it wildly, forcing his little brother to backpedal towards the thicket of trees and bushes that divided their yard from the neighbors.

Cory had a sword of his own, but it wasn’t as skillfully constructed and bent left and right as he parried each blow.

Finally, one landed.

The slash went from his clavicle down across the chest toward the ribcage.

“You’re DEAD!” Billy yelled. “I just sliced you in half!”

Cory dropped to the ground silently. Billy approached his little brother and prepared for the final attack. He lifted his sword above his head and was about to bring it down when Cory rolled away and popped to his feet.

“I’m back from the dead,” he said, grinning.

“NO! You can’t come back from the dead,” Billy argued. “No one can.”

“Oh yeah?” Cory asked. “What about Jon Snow? Or Gandalf?”

“They’re made up!” Billy contested.

“Well, what about Jesus? He came back from the dead.”

“Jesus is God, dummy. You’re not God.”

Cory thought for a second. Then his face turned white. “How about grandpa?” he stuttered.

Billy shook his head. “Grandpa didn’t come back from the dead. He’s still dead. We were there when they buried him, remember?”

But Cory’s attention had drifted elsewhere. Slowly, he pointed forward.

“Well, if grandpa didn’t come back from the dead,” he murmured, “who’s that in the woods watching us?”