At Least They're Committed

Demon Spawn stands on the landing between the first and second floors, the head and torso of a skeleton in one hand, a leg in the other; tattered pieces of fabric are laced through his fingers.

“Mina got your dead guy,” he says, holding it up so I can better see it in the hallway light.

“Aw, shit!” I say. She’s been in most of the day again because of the cold and she gets bored. “It’s not the first time. Put him on my dresser, please. I’ll see if I can fix him . . . why does she always pick on the men?”

DS dons a shit-eating grin, “Well, she is your dog.”

DS, Edisonsblackdahlia and I erupt in laughter, “Yes, there is that,” I say. “There is that.”