death - Page 3

Today – is it all we really have?

Had Death been roaming our city that night in search of a casual victim?

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Death as a figment, life as tiny details

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Call it my own version of faith.

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Poem: “27 voice messages”

27 calls, a week or a day too late to be heard.

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Short story: “The snow shroud”

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He was like an old Indian or Egyptian king collecting a snow crown on his head. His head resting on his sofa pillow I stole from his room.

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