portion of the artwork for Chris Haven's stories

The Burial of Emmanuel
Chris Haven

He got out. Happens every time. He’ll do it again. Sometimes the execution takes longer than others, but he always ends up beneath the ground. It’s not as quiet as you think. There are varying degrees of ceremony. Crowns, signs, vinegared sponges. He doesn’t let it go too far. Nothing anyone would call a sacrifice. This time there’s a coffin. A nice one, too. It’s not always a rich guy who pays. Emmanuel, why do you keep forsaking yourself? You’d think he’d lose interest, knowing the outcome, every possible path to the grave. This one curiosity: The people know he won’t stay buried. Sometimes they post guards, but whatever the guards witness swells the legend. Those who believe, believe they are burying body, body that can’t be killed. Those who don’t believe, believe they are burying idea, idea that won’t stay buried. These fools. If resurrection hadn’t already existed, they would have to keep inventing it.

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FRiGG: A Magazine of Fiction and Poetry | Issue 53 | Spring/Summer 2019