• Doing Business

    by Emily Shifflett

    Walking to the crossroads
    Little box in hand
    Shovel swung up over the shoulder
    t night, walks a lonely man
    When he comes to his destination
    The shovel meets the dirt
    Digging, digging, deeper down
    The box gets put into dark, moist earth
    Inside, there is a picture
    That’s faded on the edge
    Along with a couple leaves and twigs
    Clipped, by moonlight, from their hedge
    Then the lines are drawn in dust
    A beacon for him who rides
    Flickering candles at pivotal points
    In the middle, man stands in moonrise
    Lips move, quickly and quietly
    Murmuring the words to call
    Waiting for a response:
    The sounds as footsteps fall
    Then, suddenly, there he stands
    Shrouded in the night
    Blonder than almost possible
    Smirk full of pomp and spite
    “Now, how can I be of service?”
    He says with a lilt to his voice
    The man finally remembers to take breath,
    In the final moments of his choice
    “I need your help,” he finally says
    “You CAN do that, can’t you?”
    The smirk remains, and a mirthless laugh
    “You have no idea what I can do.”
    So, the man makes his request
    Signs with a drop of red
    Sulfur eyes spark for a moment
    As he does business with the King of the Dead

    posted to Cedar Street Times on October 28, 2011

    Topics: Young Writers' Corner

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