#uploaded the wrong file from an old submission like a dingus

[mortalityplays]

One Last Gift...

Before we close out the year, I want to leave you with one more small thing. This is a short story I wrote for a national competition last year, which sadly was not shortlisted - but which I still consider one of my best to date. You may or may not know that I grew up in Edinburgh, which is known among other things for its strange and expansive 'underground' city. Medieval streets that were walled up long ago for reasons ranging from plague to fire to flooding still exist under the modern centre, and can be visited on local ghost tours. Whole houses, abandoned shops and streets are just slumbering down there, and every few years a new piece of construction work will unearth more. You may or may not also know that I specialised in modern ghost folklore at university. I spent a lot of time with those tour companies, walking those subterranean streets and watching tourists metabolise the real and imagined stories of people who once lived pretty much like them. It's traditional in the UK to tell ghost stories in the winter months, particularly on Christmas and New Year's Eve. These are transitional nights when the veil is thin, and it's the right kind of time to reflect on people absent. This is a story about ghosts, communities, covid-19, ancient history, and living memory. I hope you like it.

Six Feet Parted by R/L Monroe (PDF)