Moving On

Micheal stared for a moment at the embodiment of Death. He felt odd at feeling no fear.

He cleared his throat, “What I know is, my wife thinks I’m some kind of degenerate, but I only have a vague suspicion of who may have given that idea. I know I was happy with my life, and had plans that didn’t involve you so soon.” His tone darkened, “I know, I have a week left.”

Death was eerily calm, “I’ll look past some of this, for now. However, that trip down memory lane cost you a day. You’re down to six.”

Bones clicked on stone as Death turned his back and took a few steps away, “You’re not telling me everything, and, for that, I should send you on your way.”

“And where would that be?”

Glowing yellow spun back around, “Not a joyful place.”

Micheal tossed his arms up in a shrug, “Like you said, you’re the authority, here.”

“Mortal,” Death let out a curious hum, “you are quite something.”

There was an exaggerated bow in response.

“I still gave you six days. What do you have next?”

“I’d like to see my dad.”

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