i can feel the shadow of dog the quiet looming of dread in the hint of a breath on the back of my neck but nothing is there when i look i can feel the shadow of dog as days become short the soft click of their paws on foundational floors are felt by my unhearing ears i can feel the shadow of dog in the scent of the chill as the autumn leaves fell from tired trees that no longer care i can feel the shadow of dog i know that it's here but what colour they are when i open the door is a choice i make once again ©ceenoa
I haven’t done one of these for ages, so here we go.
After the End of The World Apocalypse (when those remaining realised the world hadn’t actually ended for them), the trend of the day was to have travel backpacks made from the skin of your closest “previously-loved-in-real-life” zombie. Of course, to achieve the pinnacle of fashion you had to have “inhumed” them yourself.
If you want to find out what SOD really means – read this post