I hope you do not expect me to greet you.
I do not greet takers and parasites. The sins of takers – who laugh in the faces of those who give – cannot be expiated.
Oh, you pray God! To whose God do you pray?
Who’s the God of an empty box?
Your actions are similar to those of others. Perhaps too similar.
Don’t confuse your emptiness with the majesty of death.
This August is too hot.
@short-prose-fiction. all rights reserved.
image: CARACOLLA; Shutterstock; [link]
