THE GRIM REAPER

Something is waiting for me.

Outside my front door.

I can sense its presence.

Can it be death?

Am I ready for it?

No one can be ready.

It comes for us when

we are the least prepared.

If I shut the door,

will it go away?

It’s moving closer to the house,

smacking repeatedly against the window.

Bang.

Bang.

I peek out.

A branch from the tree

is waving in the breeze.

This time I was lucky.

What about the next time?

I better be ready.

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4 comments on “THE GRIM REAPER

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