“I’m still peckish,” Famine said. “Let’s finish the wheat before we head out.”
“If we do, there won’t be any for Lebanon . . .”
All four horsemen laughed raucously.
“Mind if I bring another ‘friend’ this year?” asked Pestilence.
“Bah! Your friends always wimp out.”
“This one’s a finisher.”
War rolled his eyes as he climbed onto his horse; there was an immediate rumble in far-off Ukraine.
“Guys! Wait up . . .”
Death hadn’t even saddled his horse yet! Typical, thought War. He’s always the last to the party.
Image by Bryant Arnold, Cartoonaday.com. Inspired by Black Swans and, well, the newspaper.
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