Tik tok goes the clock and all the years they fly. Tik tok and all too soon, you and I must die.
Time drips off the clock and onto the wall. I stare at the body on my table while the song repeats itself in my head. I should have washed the body before they come to see it. I watch the clock as it ticks away the time.A knock sounds at the door and a group of robed men walk in.
"Is this the one?" They ask.
I nod my head as they examine the body. They prod and poke but to no avail. The body has been drained of blood, and only vague bruises remain. They mumble to each other as I feel the stitches on my mouth. The last time they were upset I lost my right to speak.
When I see tall trees blowing in the breeze and a crescent moon rising in the east. With owls searching for rodents trying not to sreeze and the three robed men enjoying their feast. I turn away as sharp teeth and forked tongues dine on the body.
After a while they look up at me with red eyes and blood dripping down their chins. They smile a wicked smile and leave just as quickly as they came. I heave a sigh of relieve and start to clean up.
Walls have ears and doors have eyes. Trees have voices and beasts tell lies. Beware the rain, beware the snow. Baware the things you think you know.
