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  • George lost track of the cats after the last litter of 10. Skippy, Hungry, Dolomites, Chartreuse, Anchor, Terror, Dog, Cat, Kitty, Poopsy, Johnny, Zelda, Miko, Harry, Lulabeth, and Harold were all buried beneath their individual crosses in the back yard. George hammered together the small coffins and lined them with newspapers from 1943. He had them all the way back from the '20s because his mother saved them too. Lately, he'd been wrapping the new corpses up in festively colored tissue paper and digging shallower graves because his back pained him, shoulders too. There was also the arthritis. It was a small town, his back yard, and he kept it neat so the neighbors wouldn't suspect. He'd written a lullaby for the new ones, mewling in the back of a closet on the blanket he'd carried with him from the cradle. A bright light. Then darkness.

    146 words. 7 minutes.
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