Gilham made Molly promise she wouldn’t attend his funeral.
“There’ll be people there who hated my guts. Crying crocodile tears, spouting sentimental untruths! I want you to raise a glass to me here.”
She pours two pints, places one in front of Gilham’s favorite stool, and silently toasts her friend.
This is the seventy-third story in the series of Humpbuckle Tales. Each story is precisely 50 words long. They are meant to be independent stories, but if you read them all you will find each one adds another piece to the puzzle – there is a bigger story that is being told.
This story was first published on my Hive blog (@felt.buzz) and you can find all the stories on the @humbuckletales Hive account.
Hive is a blogging platform that rewards posts in a cryptocurrency (Hive).
You will find over 70 more Humpbuckle Tales on the @humbuckletales Hive blog (so this blog is about 6 weeks behind)
On Hive I publish 12 stories per week (Monday to Saturday one story per day and then six 50-word stories in one post on a Sunday).
On HumpbuckleTales.com I also publish 12 tales a week but at a different schedule (and about 6 weeks behind): 2 Tales every day, Monday-Friday and 1 Tale on Saturday and 1 Tale on Sunday.
You can watch the author read the first 22 Humpbuckle Tales on YouTube or you can listen to it as a podcast.