Over My Grave

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It came lurking upon my conscious in a black ragged cape, all sickle-clawed and hungering after my soul. I could feel chilled breath on my neck, and a tightening of muscles and tendons. I felt my mortality shrinking, insignificance expanding and the shortness of all that is on this world.

It was not a premonition, or a look into the crystal ball of the future, but a reminder. An icy hand on my shoulder to remind me of what will, eventually, happen.

An experience to cultivate wisdom, to expand my experience, and to treasure what I have, had, and may have.

Death, I have been reminded.

-M.E. Inkowl

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