Shortly Before Those Mortal Events In The Camber Dooryard, Cujo's Remains Were Cremated. The Ashes Went
Shortly before those mortal events in the Camber dooryard, Cujo's remains were cremated. The ashes went out with the trash and were disposed of at the Augusta waste-treatment plant.
It would perhaps not be amiss to point out that he had always tried to be a good dog.
He had tried to do all of the things his MAN and his WOMAN, and most of all his BOY, had asked or expected of him. He would have died for them, if that had been required.
He had never wanted to kill anybody.
He had been struck by something, possibly destiny, or fate, or only a degenerative nerve disease called rabies.
Free will was not a factor.
~ Cujo, Stephen King, 1981
More Posts from Dangeroussongbeliever and Others
Person who wants to do stuff trapped in a body that needs to lie down
i would be soooooo powerful if i wasn't so deeply afraid of people and places and also things
surely it's not just me who finds those fucking "be nice, I'm in charge of the pills" pins you sometimes see doctors and nurses wearing in pretty bad taste right? like the *point* is a stand against being mistreated by patients but like...yea you are in charge of the pills and can arbitrarily deny care to people, not really sure why that's something to gloat about? like the number of stories especially of black women being totally denied painkillers in hospital and stuff because the nurses were assholes it's like....maybe you can have your snarky pins when you're not in the position to medically torture someone? idk
like you get people rushing to defend it like "you don't know what it's like working in a hospital" but like...i do sure as hell know what it's like being mistreated by medical professionals. I'm not even getting paid to be here. it's kinda fucking evil when you think about it for more than a second.
Fruits bus stop
Der schnelle Tag ist hin, die Nacht schwingt ihre Fahn'
Und führt die Sternen auf. Der Menschen müde Scharen
Verlassen Feld und Werk, wo Tier und Vögel waren,
Trauert itzt die Einsamkeit. Wie ist die Zeit vertan!
Der Port naht mehr und mehr sich zu der Glieder Kahn.
Gleich wie dies Licht verfiel, so wird in wenig Jahren
Ich, du und was man hat und was man sieht hinfahren.
Dies Leben kommt mir vor als eine Renne-Bahn.
Lass, höchster Gott, mich doch nicht auf dem Laufplatz gleiten,
Lass mich nicht Ach,nicht Pracht, nicht Lust, nicht Angst verleiten!
Dein ewig-heller Glanz sei vor und neben mir.
Lass, wenn der müde Leib entschläft, die Seele wachen.
Und wenn der letzte Tag wird mit mir Abend machen,
So reiß mich aus dem Tal der Finsternis zu dir.
- "Abend", von Andreas Gryphius (1663)
Budapest, Hungary
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