#303 Creatures of the Night
The funeral procession continued well into the night. It was his wishes. To allow his best friends, his only friends, the owls, say their last goodbye. He spent his nights in the woods behind his home, talking to the owls who listened up in the trees.
Little did his family know what he told the owls to do if he died.
As they pushed his casket, on wheels, through the woods, the rhythmic hooting echoed around them. One flew down and landed on the casket. Then another. And another. Till there were dozens. Their heads turned to the future victims.
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