Thomas Kinkade Autumn Lane

Thomas Kinkade Autumn LaneJohn Collier SpringCaravaggio The Crucifixion of Saint Peter
now advancing towards him, with their hand out and a big smile on their face. ‘Don’t tell me, let me guess,’ they said.’You’re a zombie, right?’ ‘Er.’ Windle Poons had never seen anyone with such a pallid skin, such as there was of it, before. Or wearing clothes that looked as if they’d been washed in razor blades and smelled as though someone had not only died in them but was still in them. Or sporting a Glad To Be Grey badge. ‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘I suppose so. Only they buried me, you see, and there was this card -‘ He held it out, Like a shield. “Course there was.’Course there was,’ said the figure. He’s going to want me ‘Poons. Windle Poons,’ said Windle.’Er -‘
‘Yeah, it’s always the same, ‘ said Reg Shoe bitterly. ‘Once you’re dead, people just don’t want to know, right? They act as if you’ve got some horrible disease. Dying can happen to anyone, right?’ ‘Everyone, I should have thought,’ said Windle.to shake hands, Windle thought. If I do, I just know I’m going to end up with more fingers than I started with. Oh, my goodness. Will I end up like that?‘And I ‘m dead, ‘ he said, lamely.‘And fed up with being pushed around, eh?’ said thegreenish-skinned one. Windle shook his hand very carefully.‘Well, not exactly fed -‘‘Shoe’s the name. Reg Shoe.’