Monday, February 8, 2010

Mortal Perambulations

Illuminated by the globe-less porch light that casts monstruous shadows across the yellowed grass, two sets of teeth lay claim to a small squeaky creature and stretched it to its limit, physically. It's tiny voice was muffled by the thick black sky bearing down on the whole untimely situation. For a moment the unopened eyes felt the cool, crisp sense of calm of the winter air before being introduced to a new kind of despair as it was hummed and purred out of existence. My only thought: I can't wait to eat my babies.

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