Tweet.When I was six years old I witnessed Henry meet the end of his life. It happened one afternoon when the the sun was shining nicely not too hot but warm. A happy medium where I was free to run around our garden all afternoon without getting roasted by the heat. Days like these were ideal: I would climb the trees, trample the flowers, eat the strawberries, roll in the long grass and engage in chasing my older brother with the garden hose.Retired, I found myself lounging comfortably in the shade of a clump of trees, situated in a pleasantly secluded corner of the large garden. My mother, materializing at the front door, called me to lunch. She paused to momentarily laugh at my appearance: a mixture of bark and twigs in my hair; grass stains on my faded jeans and an adventurous expression upon my complexion. I got up and walked towards the house but soon stopped - something grabbing my attention.A chorus of distressed bird calls rose from a nearby tree. The volume of the sh
Mum?Just-like-that.Rat-a-tat-tat.Flash,Bang,and your gone.Tick-Tock.Tick-Tock,Goes your life clock.Boom,Gunshot,your time is gone.Pitter-pitter,Patter-patter,Pitter, patter,Your life a shatter.Raindrops fall,Pitter-Patter.Tick-tick.Tock-tock.Tick-tock-tick-and your life is gone,Quick as a kick.Stubbed out,You breathe no more,Light turned off,Candle blown out,-Mummy?