Death returned friendly and controlling pushed me into the black sand at dusk its foot on my forehead deciding what we would eat that night and
not asking if I had any preferences
Death got home annoyed and careless as a brace of pheasants dangling in the frosted air it was good enough for them so it was good enough for me and
Death did not offer me a blanket because they were not cold
Death came cheerful with unexpected fondness
mixing just enough sugar water for me to drink and
I lived on the memory of its sweetness long after the supplies ran out
Featured photo by Jeremy Bishop on Unsplash.