Whitt’s End Art

#35 Mr. Death

| Whitt’s End Art

Joe looked at Death. 

Death looked back at Joe. “You’re early.”

Joe stood there a few more moments trying to take in the vision before him. He’d never seen death before but he always a preconceived vision of death in his mind: a tall skeletal figure in a black robe carrying a sickle. The creature or person in front of him was dressed like Michael Jackson and had a normal looking face topped by blond hair. He also was sans sickle.

“You’re Death?”

“The one and only. But I’m not expecting you for another…almost gave away your deathday.”

#34 The Lonely Cane

| Whitt’s End Art

The lonely cane leans against the wall. Waiting, waiting, for the owner to return. The cane misses its daily walk, sometimes to the park, others time to the falls. The owner has been gone so long . The cane wonders of his return. So it just sits and waits patiently. 

“Dad, what do I do with the cane?”

“Bring it along son, maybe I’ll keep it to remember him by…maybe not.”

The lonely canes moves on.

#32 The Weapons

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“Excuse me dear. Why are there weapons in my bathroom?” 

She looked over at her husband. “Well…Uum..”

“I’ve told you before. I don’t like it when you bring your work home with you. Itmis bad enough having a spy for a wife but…”

“Okay… I was going to move them.”

#31 See

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“See I remembered.”

Joe looked down at the thing in his hand. He turned it over. “What is it?”

“I’m hurt darling. You’ve been asking for one for years now.”

“Louise, you have got to be kidding. This is not the car I wanted. It is a hard glob of…well I don’t know what.”

“No, not the car. It is the dog you asked for.”

“The dog …this is no dog. Having you been hitting the wine already?”

“No silly. Here let me see it.”

He handed her the object. She closed her eyes. Suddenly a dog appeared.

#30 I Didn’t Steal It

| Whitt’s End Art

“I didn’t steal it. It crawled into my pocket at the store.”

They both looked down at the creature.

“What is it Stan.”

“I don’t know Louise. It looks like some kind of big tadpole.”

The creature squirmed in his hand as it shed its skin. It grew to twice its previous size. 

“Stan, kill the thing.”

“I can’t kill it. I don’t even know what it is.”

“All the reason to kill it.”

“No…” The creature shed it’s skin again. Now it was too big for his hand. He dropped it to the ground. The creature crawled away.