Life, But Not As We Know It #writephoto

Sue Vincent’s #writephoto prompt this week is



‘You need to open the door.’


‘Can you see it?’

‘Yes, But…’

‘Pull it open and I’ll explain.’

‘But who… why? My dog. Where’s Bonkers?’

‘Please, just open the door.’

Carol-Ann Strudel looked around. Her eyes must off. There was a door and… nothing else. Now she looked not even a wall… or a floor. Weird. She pulled the door open. ‘Wow! That’s…’ she pulled the door back towards her and looked behind it. Still blank. In front there was a beautiful path through the woods. Like the one she and her dad…’ she stifled a sob.

The same soothing compelling voice spoke, like a mix of Peter Ustinov and that bloke who did the voice overs for the Milk Tray adverts… ‘In you come… that’s it.’

As soon as Carol- Ann stepped forward the door… she didn’t know how to describe it.

‘Dissolved? Most people think of it as dissolving.’

‘How did you know I was thinking about the door?’

‘Everyone does. They latch on to the familiar. ‘Latch?’ Door?’ Get it?’

‘I’m sorry but this is all a bit weird. Can you just tell me why I’m in this wood?’

‘Here’s the thing. While I explain, can you walk towards the beginning?’

‘The beginning?’

‘The path. Ahead.’

‘How can I be walking towards the beginning? And where are you? I can hear you as if… as if…’

‘I’m inside your head?’

Carol-Ann spun round. Nothing there. Actually even the path was gone, just thick wood.’

‘You’re creeping me out. I’d like to go home. I’m not going anywhere until…’

‘But you are.’

And she was. Even as she determined to stand still her feet kept moving forward.

‘If you cast your mind back you might recall the stairs, the loose tread… yes?’

‘I fell?’


‘So where am I? Where’s my hall? What happened?’

‘Your Hall is still in East Lothian. You, well, you transitioned.’

‘Transitioned? Do you mean died?’

If a voice could cringe, this voice cringed. ‘We try to avoid such finite expressions. You’re moving to the next phase.’

‘The afterlife?’

‘In a sense.’

‘Sorry. Can I sit down?’

‘With what?’

‘With what?’

‘You’ve nothing to sit on?’

‘I’ll perch on a log. I’m not proud.’

‘No I mean you’ve nothing with which you can sit.’

Carol-Ann looked down again. She wasn’t there. Specifically her bum wasn’t there.’

‘Where’s my body gone?’

‘It’s where you left it. East Lothian Royal Infirmary. We trialled a Bring Your Body With You a few years back and to be fair the folks quite liked it but it sort of freaked out those remaining. So we had to stop it.’

‘So what am I?’

‘What you’ve always been. You.’

‘No come on. I was born and I had no clue who I was. I just became aware of it as I grew up.’


‘So I can’t have been me. I really would like to stop. The trees are making me feel giddy.’

‘It’s the shadows. They can do that.’

‘Does everyone use this path?’

‘Everyone has their own bespoke transition to the beginning.’

‘Is this the Shadowlands? I heard about them at…’

‘No.’ The voice wrapped her in tiredness. ‘Sorry but if I had a… hang on… a pound… I can’t keep up with all the new currencies … for every transitioning spirit that’s come this way I’d have a mountain of useless notes to…’

‘Coins. They got rid of the notes.’

‘They did? I’ll make a note. Ha! ‘I’ll make a note…’ good, eh?’

‘Can you cut out the puns? I’ve just died…’


‘… and I’m being made to walk down this bloody path….’

‘… track…’

‘Stop interrupting. What’s going to happen to me?’

‘Same as last time.’

‘Last time?’

‘When we reach the beginning, you’ll spend some time with a counsellor, running through what went right and what went wrong with your previous choice…’

‘… you debrief the dead?’

‘… more a review of the accumulation of your experiences. It helps us try and find you another role that suits you.’

‘I get to go back?’

‘It’s up to you really. You can hang around but…’


‘Do you want to stay on this track for eternity?’

‘Eternity? What is eternity?’

‘It’s like any grotty Monday without the prospect of a Tuesday…’

‘Ok, so I can go back. Is this like a Buddhist thing?’

‘You mean you get another existence as a species higher up the pecking order?’




‘We have quotas. If everyone wanted to be a royal baby or dictator’s offspring things would be a bit out of kilter. It’ll depend what credits you’ve earned.’

‘But no one told me about credits. Why wasn’t I told about credits?’

‘If everyone knows about credits them everyone will be end up fulfilling the same criteria. You’ll forget.’

‘I’ll forget.’

‘You said it yourself. You were born, and you knew nothing. It’s only here that you’ll remember your previous existences. In a moment you’ll get your folder and you can see what you’ve been before.’

‘Do you know?’

‘Oh yes. Perk of this job.’


‘My lips are sealed.’

‘What lips?’

‘Good one. You’re getting the hang of this. Shall we find a counsellor?’

‘No, hang on. Isn’t this a bit discriminatory? I mean if someone’s been say Mother Teresa then they’ll get another plum role. Should we really be defined by our past lives?’

‘Very profound. Now Miasma Thomas in booth 4 will sort you out.’

‘But surely it’s unfair.’

‘I only said you accumulate credits. I never said they’d do you any good. And anyway it might not be human. Off you go. Sounds like there’s been a tsunami and we’ll all be needed.’ Carol-Ann felt the voice begin to fade away, before it returned. ‘Oh, word to the wise. They’re offering a special on endangered species…’

‘Like elephants?’

‘I was thinking more along the lines of dinosaurs…’

‘But they’re extinct?’

Carol-Ann heard what sounded like a rustling of paper. ‘You sure?’


‘Bloody hell… I’ll have a word with management. They really need to update these notes.”

‘But what should I do?’

‘What everyone does when they’re not sure.’

‘What’s that?’

‘Come back as a tree. We’ll have updated things by the time you’re back with us. Happy germination.’

About TanGental

My name is Geoff Le Pard. Once I was a lawyer; now I am a writer. I've published several books: a four book series following Harry Spittle as he grows from hapless student to hapless partner in a London law firm; four others in different genres; a book of poetry; four anthologies of short fiction; and a memoir of my mother. I have several more in the pipeline. I have been blogging regularly since 2014, on topic as diverse as: poetry based on famous poems; memories from my life; my garden; my dog; a whole variety of short fiction; my attempts at baking and food; travel and the consequent disasters; theatre, film and book reviews; and the occasional thought piece. Mostly it is whatever takes my fancy. I avoid politics, mostly, and religion, always. I don't mean to upset anyone but if I do, well, sorry and I suggest you go elsewhere. These are my thoughts and no one else is to blame. If you want to nab anything I post, please acknowledge where it came from.
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39 Responses to Life, But Not As We Know It #writephoto

  1. Ritu says:

    Ooh… Wonder what credits I might have accumulated? 😉

    Liked by 2 people

  2. Oh Geoff, this was great! Happy Germination indeed!

    Liked by 2 people

  3. willowdot21 says:

    Yes indeed happy germination , I love it …this is such a good post I found it a tad unsettling 💜

    Liked by 2 people

  4. Rowena says:

    Geoff, I loved this…So philosophical and reflective. I think it might be poetic justice for some folk to come back as a tree. I can’t understand how some people chop them down so easily without a second thought. I wonder what it would be like to come back as a tree planted in one spot all your life, with some vague notion of being human and not being able to move and yet perhaps living for hundreds of years. So much to think about…Well done.
    I popped over to let you now the kids’ troop name for Jamboree. After being the Drop Bears last time, they’re going to be the “Bin Chickens” for AJ 2019 to be held in January in Adelaide.
    In case you’re not familiar with “bin chickens”, they’re the Australian Ibis and they feast on rubbish and hang out in city parks. Don’t now if you have an equivalent over there or if these tenacious creatures have even managed to invade your shores. Here’s a link I thought you might enjoy:
    Best wishes,


    • TanGental says:

      Nope never heard of bin chickens. What a splendid name for something so pretentious as an Ibis. Typical of you Aussies to topple a smug tall poppy! Hope the jamboree goes well. And thank you for the lovely comments

      Liked by 1 person

  5. JT Twissel says:

    I think Carol Anne has a few noodles in her strudel! Happy germination day indeed!

    Liked by 1 person

  6. A collection of all your mythologies and afterlife stories being found in aeons to come will have the new-earthers scratching their heads about the profound beliefs and experiences of the pre-apocalypse peoples. Your name may well be bandied about along with Heraclitus and Plato – maybe even Euripides. Academics will debate long and hard on was it fact or fiction. Archaeological digs will take place, seeking to find lone doors standing in once forested areas………….. I’m working up a thesis here!


  7. Enjoyed your transitional tale 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  8. ellenbest24 says:

    This is a stonking good tale. I personally love the idea of being lured to transition and having my life credits checked. My take on the prompt is very different … it took an alternate track.

    Liked by 1 person

  9. This is exactly how I imagine a conversation with Geoff to go (no, not as the voice of Carol-Ann).
    The story was very entertaining to read, as usual.

    Liked by 1 person

  10. . . . of souls and trees suffering cruel bureaucracies. . .
    Well done Geoff! Lots of fun again.

    Liked by 1 person

  11. restlessjo says:

    Cleverly done, Geoff. I enjoyed it 🙂 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  12. Norah says:

    Good one, Geoff. I got quite engrossed in the conversation. It will be a little difficult to come to terms with the transition. Thanks for the heads-up. I’ll be better prepared. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  13. This is great Geoff. It has plenty of humour and gets you really thinking about what happens when…
    No bright white light either. I like the thought of transcending, walking along that path, and hearing the voice of the ‘Milk Tray’ man. I wonder what his favourite centre was?

    Liked by 1 person

  14. Sue Vincent says:

    Not that far from my philosophy, though I’d hope management have things a bit better organised 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

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