Death Has No Imagination

Death Has No Imagination

DEATH HAS NO IMAGINATION
100 words for Friday Fictioneers
Photoprompt © Priorhouse

When Death comes I may not be there
I like to think I am not the best patron
at the dark restaurant of cholesterol

Death has no imagination, so he will sigh,
and search for me in the wrong places
He’ll hang around a mountain. Perch atop a tall building

He’ll kayak, cave-dive, and hairpin at Le Mans
He’ll merge with bawling boneheads on a bull run
He’ll manifest, scythe inside his cloak, on a really unwise off-piste slope

But I’ll surprise him

I’ll grab his bony hand and whisper,
you found me on the dance floor, Reaperman
Last waltz?

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69 thoughts on “Death Has No Imagination

  1. Dear Jilly,

    Hotel of Cholesterol…love that. Some of us dig our graves with our teeth, don’t we? Lovely…wonderful…imaginative…meeting death on the dance floor. I agree with all of the comments and toss my own in the arena. Brava!

    Shalom,

    Rochelle

    Liked by 1 person

      1. The endorphins released when exercising or dancing can be a wonderful source of positivity. I used to dance 6 – 7 hours a day and never felt tired or had a negative thought. It should be a part of all of our lives for as long as we can manage to do it. I still cut-a-rug as they used to say way back when. No shame in having a good time too. I always enjoy your takes on the FF prompts.
        Isadora 😎

        Liked by 1 person

  2. You cannot imagine how much that means to me – thank you for your wonderful compliment and be assured it has worked a bit of magic on my mood today, and that was was badly needed. I now go about the rest of the day with your kindest of words, to spur me on.

    Like

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