And now, a flash fiction told in one sentence:

Death looked to the sky, listening to the crotch rockets fly past at well over 35MPH, and with a sigh said, “It’s much too early in the morning to die.”

This tiny trinket may or may not have come to me early this morning, standing in my bathroom, hearing the roar of crotch rockets going way too fast down my tiny street.

Oh, and I STILL NEED COFFEE, PEOPLE! How are you today, world?

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