A Harmless Dead Fellow (200 words 2nd Prize winner short story)

 It took me till late evening to cross the big mountain and reach the old tavern in the center of the hamlet resting in the valley. It has been more than a week since I was dead.

The wooden floor creaked under my feet as I entered the tavern. I looked around and dragged myself up to the bar. There was handful tough looking guys drinking inside who, first, stared at me, stares turned into frowns, frowns lead to shock followed by screams and finally ensued the stampede. I looked at my reflection in the full-length mirror beside the bar. One eye eaten off and a worm still squirming in the hollow socket, naked, lips stretched into a filthy smile, flesh rotting away and the stench – which I didn’t feel – must be unbearable.

The bartender yelled at me in horror and pulled a shotgun from below the counter. He took a shot and 19mm slug pierced through my head. With a jolt I opened my eyes.

My grave was chilly and dark. I was breathing steadily. The vision had scared the hell out of me. Thank goodness, it was just a dream. I was nothing but a harmless dead fellow.