The Fall

The midnight road is Mother Nature's mortuary slab; the curbside gutter, our grave: will you, grim pavement pathologist, perform my post mortem?

I am already tomorrow's fossil in the tire treads of passing traffic. An insignificant smudge on the wheel of existance. Listen, children, I am the little sparrow that couldn't. Look upon my corpse ye flighty and despair.

(For those of you that don't know, the last sentence is a paraphrase from Shelley's "Ozymandias." Since I am always being accused of being obtuse, I felt it important to point that out. Also, obviously, the title of this post is a pun.)

And on Friday, perhaps a cutesy picture for Quicquid will be posted.

Comments

[Andraste]

Huzzah! More dead stuff!