Probably the most morbid tale in all respected literature…

THE THREE FRIENDS by Walter de la Mare


“There’s nothing to come.”


Mr Sully “like an over-glutted vulture” and Mr Eaves, two friends, who, amid ominous thunderheads, enter a bar to seek comfort from a sewing-woman called Miss Lacey, being a naïve woman with basic common-sense who unknowingly provides a sort of simple-minded confessional, overlooked from another part of the bar by a commissionaire.
Mr Eaves is a young man suffering a spiritual crisis as a result of a dream about Hell, aka death, as a stasis of not being able to die except as being sentenced to a nothingness of now. A death sentence seemingly commissioned by all these sentences as realised by each reader’s current self, I guess — plunged into what my own self sees as its own Eaves cupboard of Hell, while the thunderstorm continues to rumble outside. “‘Oh, fast; bless you,’ said Miss Lacey.”


“; over and over again, click, click, click, click, click;”

***

My other WDLM reviews: https://nemonymousnight.wordpress.com/1005-2/

No comments yet.

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s