Breath whistled

How can I ever know if people see their deaths in me, he asked.
A look at the back of the eye, the crook of an eyebrow, a flattening of ears, the whistle breath of fear. All these are clues, I said.
He sighed. I have seen all of those, he replied.
I heard my own breath whistle and closed my eyes.
No, open them, he said softly. You must see this to the end.

Originally published on Paragraph Planet on Friday 13 June 2014

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