And a knock came at the door.
“Who is it?” He asked.
“An old friend.”
He opened the door.
“It’s time to go, Rolando. Are you ready?”
He paused for a while, smiled and gave his signature thumbs-up sign.
“Well, old friend, I think I am.” He said.
And Death closed the door.


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Backpack Reflections


Where travel and poetry intertwine.

Little Fears

Tales of whimsy, humor and courgettes

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