Richard was fond of saying: ‘There’s something cathartic about knowing where you’ll end up,’ but in truth the photograph was the death of him.
He was just a minor when they lowered his father’s body into the earth.
‘Seven generations of Langhams languish in this graveyard,’ an ancient aunt alliterated, ‘and one day you too will reside here with the tree roots nestling against your belly.’
The words burrowed their way into his impressionable little mind and set him on a path of narcissistic self-reflection. Richard kept the photo about his person at all times and haunted himself long before he became a ghost.
Written for: Saturday Mix