Photo 1504898931369 4e77cb7fdd29


  • By girly-d
  • On 07/09/2019


We all have them.

Swinging merrily away in the closet. Not posing a threat or a danger to anyone in any way, shape or form...just as long as they stay in there, obviously.

Only they don't tend to do that do they, skeletons?..., it seems that they don't like being hidden away back there in the dark, with only each other and the occasional moth-ball for company. They tend to get bored, restless, and start looking for the exit.

And that's when the fun starts...


You see they don't care much for emotions, skeletons. Theirs are all long gone. They don't understand the damage they can cause when they finally wiggle that catch free and slip out into the open. After all, they're just bones...

Only they're not are they?

They're grenades.

A series of teeny tiny land-mines, hell-bent on detonating with every step taken once they come out of their hiding place...and boy do those bones make a noise, no matter how lightly they try to tip-toe.

My boyfriend has skeletons.

Or, more accurately,  he "had".

He doesn't any more. They are right here in front of me...exploded fragments of bone scattered all over the kitchen.

He hasn't seen them yet. Is unaware that that closet door swung open and they all trooped out to pay me a visit...

He's too busy sleeping off a hangover.

Still, he'll figure it out.

I've left the dust-pan and brush where he can see it.

Right next to the "Dear John" letter next to the kettle...

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