A blanket of death warms her feet. Only Grandfather knows the moment: Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock. Alive but not living, she waits. Memories float like autumn leaves, twirling on the wind. Gliding tranquility of twilight. Calls to a little boy are answered by the touch of man. Yes, pull the blanket up. How kind. Tick-tock, tick-tock, […]
Tick-Tock
- Post author By bacrisp
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