Macabre Puppet

6 08 2009

“Carry me away to a place of rest,” I could hear the leaves crying. Their lives had been spent and now they were no more than macabre puppets for the fall breeze. The fall breeze that believed it could prove something by giving the leaves animation after death.

I had seen the movies – the movies that produced fear in the viewers by animating dead animals. H. P. Lovecraft, it seemed, was sitting right beside me!

The passers-by were ignoring the abhorrent show but, had it been hundreds of butterfly wings (sans bodies), the story would be different.

The Macabre Puppet

The Macabre Puppet

Story and photo © 2009 Kathleen Bjoran




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