JP Kemmick They Blamed It on Smog, or The Day Nothing Died
There was a day on Earth when nothing died and Death was temporarily unemployed But rather than give in, and keep his sickle in its case, he ascended past Earth’s borders to take care of some too long prolonged extraterrestrial tidying up All day long, in tireless lumberjack style, he swung his gleaming scythe and strand after strand of star-suspending strings were sliced clean in half and sent diving through the darkest celestial blue Shooting stars were unbelievably common that night as any star-gazing lovers could tell you (and a few were found in backyard sandboxes or dangling, snagged in a tree) But when death ďŹ nally took respite and sat down mopping his brow,
10