Categories > Original > Drama > Gregory's Secret: A Tale of Immortality, Basements and Cigarettes
Chapter Four
Anna’s funeral came and past, she was buried in the Grant family plot of the Church Graveyard. By this time Greg had given up trying to forget about her, feeling only a slight pang on regret when her coffin was carried out of the church.
The next full moon was only days away though, and he had already had another girl selected. She was a Jane Doe whose family hadn’t come forward, and the council wouldn’t pay for her funeral so the locals did. She was found in an alley, having tried to fight back when someone attempted to mug her. She didn’t make it.
Simone didn’t visit the funeral director again, but still made small talk whenever he went into the bakery, and Mrs Williams still sent him away with half a dozen cakes saying he looked thin; to which her daughter only responded with an arched eyebrow in Gregory’s direction. Simone’s mother was a small woman with greying hair in a bun; and she seemed to constantly have a layer of flour dusting her round, pink cheeks.
Everything went back to how it was before, until two days before the full moon. He should have been preparing the girl, but instead he stood near the parade of shops gradually smoking his way through a pack of cigarettes.
“Spare a light?” came the familiar voice, slightly higher than he remembered. Greg pulled the lighter from his pocket and turned around to where Simone stood, an unlit roll-up hanging from her painted lips.
“Smoking’s bad for you,” the man replied as he lit her cigarette. She snorted in reply.
“So is living off of raisin bread, but that doesn’t stop you.”
At this he got defensive, “I don’t only eat raisin bread, and I can’t help it if your mother makes delicious food!” She smiled at him as she exhaled some smoke, and then waggled her eyebrows.
“How do you know she makes it anyway? It’s actually me that makes the bread; she handles cakes and other heart attacks waiting to happen.”
“Well I guess there’s quite a bit we don’t know about each other,” Greg replied as he finished his cigarette. “Maybe I should introduce myself,” he picked up her hand from where it had been resting on the wall beside her, kissed it gently and said “Hello there, my name is Gregory; I live off of raisin bread and cigarettes and sometimes I use matches instead of lighters so I can feel like I’m not lazy.” Then he released her hand and looked up to see an amused expression on her face.
Simone laughed lightly, and then replied, ‘it’s nice to meet you, Gregory. My name is Simone and I make your raisin bread. I have a psychotic mother and a dream to one day escape from this dead end town.”
He nodded, then responded with “well as pleasant as it is to meet such a lovely young lady” – she interrupted with a laugh that had much depth to it – “I have to get back to work now, but I’m guessing I’ll see you in the bakery tomorrow morning.” The woman nodded in reply, stubbed out her cigarette then leant forward and gently kissed his cheek.
“I look forward to it, Mr Smith.” Then she left him there, with a lipstick mark on his cheek and a smile on his face.
Anna’s funeral came and past, she was buried in the Grant family plot of the Church Graveyard. By this time Greg had given up trying to forget about her, feeling only a slight pang on regret when her coffin was carried out of the church.
The next full moon was only days away though, and he had already had another girl selected. She was a Jane Doe whose family hadn’t come forward, and the council wouldn’t pay for her funeral so the locals did. She was found in an alley, having tried to fight back when someone attempted to mug her. She didn’t make it.
Simone didn’t visit the funeral director again, but still made small talk whenever he went into the bakery, and Mrs Williams still sent him away with half a dozen cakes saying he looked thin; to which her daughter only responded with an arched eyebrow in Gregory’s direction. Simone’s mother was a small woman with greying hair in a bun; and she seemed to constantly have a layer of flour dusting her round, pink cheeks.
Everything went back to how it was before, until two days before the full moon. He should have been preparing the girl, but instead he stood near the parade of shops gradually smoking his way through a pack of cigarettes.
“Spare a light?” came the familiar voice, slightly higher than he remembered. Greg pulled the lighter from his pocket and turned around to where Simone stood, an unlit roll-up hanging from her painted lips.
“Smoking’s bad for you,” the man replied as he lit her cigarette. She snorted in reply.
“So is living off of raisin bread, but that doesn’t stop you.”
At this he got defensive, “I don’t only eat raisin bread, and I can’t help it if your mother makes delicious food!” She smiled at him as she exhaled some smoke, and then waggled her eyebrows.
“How do you know she makes it anyway? It’s actually me that makes the bread; she handles cakes and other heart attacks waiting to happen.”
“Well I guess there’s quite a bit we don’t know about each other,” Greg replied as he finished his cigarette. “Maybe I should introduce myself,” he picked up her hand from where it had been resting on the wall beside her, kissed it gently and said “Hello there, my name is Gregory; I live off of raisin bread and cigarettes and sometimes I use matches instead of lighters so I can feel like I’m not lazy.” Then he released her hand and looked up to see an amused expression on her face.
Simone laughed lightly, and then replied, ‘it’s nice to meet you, Gregory. My name is Simone and I make your raisin bread. I have a psychotic mother and a dream to one day escape from this dead end town.”
He nodded, then responded with “well as pleasant as it is to meet such a lovely young lady” – she interrupted with a laugh that had much depth to it – “I have to get back to work now, but I’m guessing I’ll see you in the bakery tomorrow morning.” The woman nodded in reply, stubbed out her cigarette then leant forward and gently kissed his cheek.
“I look forward to it, Mr Smith.” Then she left him there, with a lipstick mark on his cheek and a smile on his face.
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