Tuesday, April 9, 2013

Death's Dog

Saw the dog of Death again today. He's hardly what you'd think: pointy hears, clean coat and wagging tail.
That's how they get you.
I didn't see Death this time, he was around the corner. I could just see his pale hands reading from the book.
I shrugged like I always do and waited, finished my work.
A couple times I went back and waved at the dog and his dopey grin, I knew to never approach.
But again, they never came.
Maybe it was the haircut, maybe it was because I was feeling optimistic.
But I fooled them again.

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