The purpose of death (A 55-fiction)

A murder of crows had enlisted their tactical skills as Death’s acolytes. Spiraling around the failed escapee decomposing on the curb. Searchlights look for the unsubtle demise of a vengeful convict. His potential victims were unknowingly spared. Karma came back around in the nick of time. Tattered black robes undulate. We cannot live without death.

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