Suffering A Fake Death

A Drabble
by Joe BB
It was an icy day accentuated by the fat moon. It was hard to believe that in a few
moments, I would suffer a fake death.

I was enjoying boating boyishly as Mum whistled busily, like a frozen rat sleeping
carelessly.

The piano had an icy eye and fat shelves. It didn't look dangerous. Not even its
fake soles warned me of my fate. I should have sensed the danger in its hill.

I can still vividly recall the gun coming down on my spots like a killer blade -
growl. My life slipped away.

Only dearest Grandma weeps for me.