posted on Aug, 19 2020 @ 11:43 AM
Twelve sat around the campfire, handholding, singing kumbaya, smoke drifting around eleven heads. Ten told tales to scare their souls and nine
shrieked at sounds from out of the darkness surrounding the eight of them.
The seventh wondered why he had no partner while the six didn't notice he was gone. Each had one of the last five marshmallows but only four sticks,
just enough for everyone.
Three cuddled around dying embers and two stoked it to a final life. One got up to leave but no one left. The wood settled to ash as the campfire
chortled to itself.
edit on Sun Aug 23 2020 by DontTreadOnMe because: (no reason given)