"Mister? Hey, mister? Don't run... I'm not gonna bite you, honest!"
"Thanks for stayin'. Can you tell me something? Do you know where I am? My momma was gonna teach me how to fly, but then I got a cold, and I got here. And I can't go nowhere else. Can you tell me please, mister? I'm kinda scared..."
I was thinking about mortality today. Everybody's got to go sometime, but some of us go a lot sooner than others. Such was the case with an ancestor of mine, who died at the age of two. I found her tombstone in the same graveyard that held my grandparents, and I couldn't help but wonder what she could have been if she had been given more time. I mean, when you die at seventy, fifty, even twenty, you had a personality and left memories behind. When a young child dies, all that remains is wasted potential, and the question of what might have been. Thinking about this really does make me feel like I'm being haunted by a ghost.
Keywords
female
1,004,482,
babyfur
35,210,
bat
34,707,
ghost
8,520,
inktober
7,756
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Published:
6 years, 6 months ago
06 Oct 2017 04:39 CEST
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