How does someone entertain the embodiment of death? What would such a being find worthwhile of their attention?


The word resounded in the stone room with a unexpected bit of certainty in the man’s voice.

“Excellent.” Death called from the shadow, “Let’s change this scenery, now. Where would you like to go?”

“Home, of course.”

Death let out a curious hum, “I don’t see much that could be considered humorous, at that place. Are you sure? We could, quite literally, go anywhere, at anytime.”

The man was sure, “Yes. I’d like to go home, first. I do have a whole week, correct?”

“That, you do.” There was a slight pause, “Very well.”

Death clicked a bony finger against the bone in his hand, and the room was gone. The man found himself in the field of his family’s farmhouse, standing before a young girl in a bright yellow dress. He looked down at her, unfamiliarity in his eyes, and as he leaned in, her eyes flashed as yellow as the dress.

Death’s voice came from the girl, “You may begin anytime.”

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