[“But could it happen that an adult human being should fail to grasp his own mortality?” – Justin Smith]
I will not die. The flesh, yes; but the flesh is not the real me; it can rot away from me and reveal the figure now escaping from it, now hovering above on silken wings.
But that THING above me is not me – it is an angel or some other kind of death – and it is hungry.
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Memorable Fancies 
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