"Fools Are My Theme

     “I’m sorry. I’m new to this,” the hooded figure says, as she begins flipping through some of the papers on her clipboard. I just stare, bewildered by what can only be an elaborate prank. There is an abnormally tall, black-robed, scythe grasping figure standing on my porch. And it isn’t even halloween.      “Um. That’s alright,” I mutter, more out of instinct than actual politeness. The hooded figure sighs.      “Do you mind if I take this hood off? My supervisor says we’re not supposed to, but it is so hot out here,” she pulls the hood back, and there is suddenly a head where there used to be only impenetrable void.      She’s pale, with short black hair. What I thought was some horrifying hell sound is proved to be only the smacking of her gum, which she chews far too loudly.      “You seem kind of young for this,” I try and make conversation as she continues flipping through papers, but my attempt sounds stupid after it leaves my mouth. Too young for what? I don’t even know

Some mirror somewhere showed me a me, so that’s the me I’ll somewhat be. But something says that some mirrors lie, so that someone might not be I. If it is not, how can I know, who is the someone that mirrors show?

there is a dog barking, proabably a big one, a strong dog because you can hear how his entire being is thrown into that bark. the bark has a lot of being in it. i don’t know what makes a dog want to shout like that but, if it were a person i would’ve called the police hours ago because i can’t hear myself trying to be important.