A Visit from Death

Pro- “Can you tell me anything about the great chemists of the 17th century?”

Con-“They are all dead, sir.”

 

Death came to me one night, as I lay in bed sick and old.

“I’m not ready to go,” I croaked in a weak voice.

“That is not for you to decide,” said Death.

“I refuse to go with you,” said I. “My heart still beats and I will fight for every last breath before I let you take me.”

“You’re an old man, I can bide my time,” said Death. “You have been bedridden for months, your near dissolution as your body struggles between life and death. What strength do you have left? What business have you not resolved?”

“I don’t expect you to understand,” I grimly said.

Death cackled.

“I understand you are a conceited man,” said Death. “The last thing I expect of you is altruism.”

“How dare you judge me?” I became angry at his insolence.

“No family or friends are here to see you go,” said Death as he came closer. “I’ve seen men much more loved than you.”

“What do you know?” I was dour.