In this snippet, the obituary writer introduces us to an old folktale of his small town. Desmond had cheated death many times during his life, but how did he ultimately meet his demise?
Publish Date: Feb 03, 2021
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In this snippet, the obituary writer introduces us to an old folktale of his small town. Desmond had cheated death many times during his life, but how did he ultimately meet his demise? Where does one go after cheating death their whole life, Desmond is about to find out.
Desmond Drear was a man of incessant vanity and repugnant ego centrism. No one could be better than him, not even death. In fact, just to prove it, he had gotten rather good at cheating death. The trick was toe almost die. Take your second toe last breath, but never the last drink. Just a smidge of ammonia to get that warm, fuzzy feeling but never enough to perish. Lather yourself in peanut butter or cat dander or your favorite fatal allergy, but with a hypodermic needle nearby. Of course, for Desmond, cheating death was a hobby, like collecting stamps or pressing maple leaves into books about the Prussian War. Sometimes, when he was feeling particularly daring, Desmond listened to his bones. Yeah, his bones would speak to him, whispering sweet, sweet nothings. His forearm was forever. His tibia was timeless. His marrow would see every tomorrow, Desmond New, even if his flesh melted away his bones would always be there. His bones were immortal, and so, as his logic would have it, he was immortal, too. That is, until one fateful day when he died, during a time in which he was not trying to die. You see it was a stormy morning when Desmond did what any sensible man would do. Take a stroll with his trusty silver tipped umbrella whilst walking in a flat field. Oh, Shortly after the incident, the angel of death appeared towering over him. It's about