The Soldiers and the Dogs

First one soldier took ill. He coughed drily and wiped tears of blood from his eyes. Then the dog he liked to pet fell ill and infected all the other gray, hairy barracks dogs, and now each of them roved around in a swarm of flies. When the Commander became ill, he ordered the dogs shot and buried. Their suffering, therefore, was ultimately the briefest. 

The Freezing Piano

Due to a heating malfunction, the pianist’s hands freeze and she threads them between her thighs and wizens. Her teeth chatter and the wooden floor faintly echoes the judder of her feet. From time to time her audience, its attention growing increasingly lax, accompanies her with a sneeze. 


And what about these ruins? Which era are they from? I asked the archeologist.
He blushed and muttered: Ask the general.
Why was all this destroyed? I asked the general, who sighed: That is for the archeologist to say.