Through his living
room curtains one day he looked out to see a man
dying on his lawn.
He wasn't dying politely either. I mean he was
quiet enough about it, but his eyes bulged like
light bulbs and he kept clawing the earth, not
getting enough air or something. Well, at first, he was quite panicked.
But then he became reasonable; he reasoned that
no one else had even noticed. The
neighborhood was as still as a summer noon.
He waited a little while and then, as careful
as any sucking dove, he stuck his head out the
front door and whispered, "Can I do
something for you?"
"Yes," the man replied,
standing. "I was wondering if you'd
mind signing this form here."
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