Gene Hackman's wife died of hantavirus.
She lay on the bathroom floor. The dog was in its crate.
A few days later, Gene succumbed to the ghost in the mirror. He was stepping over and around his dead wife until his clock ran out. The dog was still in its crate.
A few days after that the dog died and no one knew.
A family mummified in their home while the sun rose and sank and the mail got delivered.
Money didn't save them.
If there's something you want to do, go do it now.
You could die tomorrow, and the neighbors across the street wouldn't know the difference.
No comments:
Post a Comment