DEATH BECOMES HER

MAD LIBS

TURN TO YOUR CO-WORKERS, KIDS, FACEBOOK FRIENDS,  FAMILY- ANYONE WHO’S ACCESSIBLE-AND ASK THEM TO SUGGEST AN ARTICLE, AN ADJECTIVE, AND A NOUN. THERE’S YOUR POST TITLE! NOW WRITE. 

Death becomes her at the breaking of dawn. She sleeps while everyone else is running about working, playing, eating, living.

Death becomes her while the  rest of the world wakes, she sleeps in a windowless room no sign of life in her pine box she calls home.

Death becomes her while the sun shines on the human population milling about slowly killing them, she is safe and sound on her satin pillow pale as the driven snow.

Death becomes her during the day as she loses the fight to keep her eyes open and sleeps a dreamless death once again.

Death becomes her until the night calls upon her then she rises with a thirst like no other, prowling the streets guided by the moonlight and the stars searching to quench the unquenchable thirst. Until the sun begins to lull her back into that sweet lullaby.

Death becomes her once again.

<a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/mad-libs/”>Mad Libs</a>

 

 

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