Morbid

People are so morbid. I guess it’s their way of flirting with death without going all the way.

So when I had some random objects I wanted to get rid of – a spiked dog collar, a shower curtain, a silver Zippo lighter with an embossed eagle, a ladder and an inflatable rubber boat – I went to a flea market and put a sign next to my table that said Dead People’s Stuff For Sale.

It was all gone before noon.