Death Came For Her On a Sunday
Death came for her on a Sunday.
I have to fry the chicken for church, she argued.
Death hung out in a closet with mildew and stains.
She tried on clothes the victim would not need any more.
Came out wearing a black leather coat that fit perfectly.
You can have that, the victim said, hoping for more time.
Monday I have Bible study, she said. Can you give me Monday?
What time is it over? Death asked.
I should be home by noon, she said.
Can I keep the leather jacket?
Of course!
They slept together that night – she and Death.
It was a fitful sleep as death held her arm down hard.
She decided to outsmart Death.
Can I go to Bible Study alone? She asked.
Death laughed.
She was helpless
No escape.
She had forgotten this….
Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2019
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