An April Fools Visit

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Flash Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic

Just a twisted story for another April Fools Day.

Submitted: March 27, 2018

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Submitted: March 27, 2018



There is one big difference from this Sunday to the next; it is the first day of April.

My Mother died on an April First Sunday. A speeding motorist cut her off as she was on her way to church. Apparently her reaction caused her car to jump a curb and hit a power pole. She died instantly, or so they say.

I know that I should visit the grave more often, but it really depresses me. So I decided to only go whenever April First falls on a Sunday; and this is it.

Traffic was really heavy for a Sunday morning. I couldn't imagine that they were all church goers because one of them was weaving in and out of traffic.

He cut several people off, including me, and I thought that he was going to cause a Big-Rid to jack-knife at one point.

(Hmm, I wonder if he was the idiot that caused Mom to crash her car.)

I just sat in the car when I arrived at the cemetery. I don't know for how long that was (?). It was as if I couldn't exit; maybe the dread of seeing the grave, or the thought of reliving that terrible day. I don't know, maybe all of the above.

Eventually I noticed some children running and playing among the graves. There were three, a girl, about 12 years old, and two boys about eight.

There was no-one else around and I couldn't imagine what parent would allow their kids to run all over the graves like that.

I remember getting out of the car and scolding them about their bad behavior.

Trampling on graves was not good manners, in my day.


The feisty little girl came over to me and said, "My Mother said that no-one cares if we play here as long as we don't disturb the flowers!"

I looked at her disapprovingly then inquired, "And where is your Mother? I don't see anyone except you kids."

"She and my Father are over there," she said, as she pointed towards a large stone tomb.

For some reason that struck me funny. So I smirked as I asked her, "Are you trying to tell me that they are in that Tomb?"

The child looked in the direction of the tomb and then she laughed. Afterward she replied, "No silly, they are on the other side of that building."

We both had a chuckle and while doing so we exchanged names. "I'm Windy Croft," she said confidently, "and those are my two twin brothers, William and Walter; but they go by Bill and Will. --- What is your name?"

"I am Charles Tillman," I replied, "but you can call me Charlie."

Just then I heard a woman's voice calling the children and Windy excused herself. She and her brothers ran off and around to the other side of the Tomb; the very area I was about to visit.


As I rounded the large stone structure I saw two large blankets spread out over many graves, as if a pick-nic was being served. On one blanket were the Croft children, along with several other kids of varying ages. And on the other blanket were adults sitting around, several had their backs towards me.

I grew angry, how dare they have a pick-nick on my Mother's grave!

I was about to tell them off, about their bad manners, when Wendy yelled, "Hi Charlie!"

That is when everyone on the blankets turned their attention to me.

Immediately, I saw that one of the adults was my Mother.

Mom smiled and said, "Oh, Hi Dear, have you come to visit me?"

But before I could answer her, the man in a dark black suite appeared. He waved his arms, as if he was about to conduct an orchestra. And as he clicked his fingers they all disappeared; blankets too.


I stood there for a very long time, dumbfounded. My mind was questioning what I thought I had just seen.

The graveyard was so quiet. Aside from the sounds of birds chirping and singing in the background, I heard nothing.

Eventually I regained my composer and decided to spend time at Mom's grave.

Whatever I thought I saw must have just been a hallucination of some kind. After all, I hadn't been feeling well lately.

So I spent time with Mom, filling her in on everything that had happened in the family sense she left. It was a good talk and I felt much better about the visit.

I told Mom I loved her and that I missed her a lot; then I got up to leave.

As I turned, the man in the black suite was there. He put his hand on my shoulder and said, "I'm afraid that is all the time I can allow.

Your body has been removed from the wreckage but they won't be able to keep it alive much longer. So if you are done here we need to go."

To which I replied, "Yes, and thank you for your help."


D. Thurmond / JEF


© Copyright 2019 D. Thurmond, aka, JEF. All rights reserved.

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