A Visit from Death

By the third day, as the sun began to set, I laid my weary bones down on my bed and waited. Death as he had promised, precipitant to my side as the sun touched the horizon. I staid very still when he showed up.

“My, my,” Death first spoke, “glad to see you here.”

“I kept the end of my deal,” I said.

“You certainly did, my friend,” Death said, “so tell me, how did the family reunion go?”

“You know how it went,” I snarled, “you were there.”

“I was indeed, my friend,” Death said, “I had to make sure you kept the deal we made… Why are you so angry, dear friend? I gave you the three days to atone for your sins.”

“It did not go as planned,” I murmured.

“Nothing does,” Death was empathetic. He bowed his head and shook it.

“You knew this was going to happen, didn’t you?” I gritted my teeth to keep my anger from showing.

“I have seen it all, my friend,” Death seemed sorrowful. “Forgiving those that have wronged us takes longer to do.”

“I expected her to accept my apology,” I said, “but, she rejected me. At least, I expected her to lie to me, so I can say my goodbye. She denied me any comfort before I die.”

“Mending our mistakes is the hardest thing for anyone to do,” Death said.

I stared vacantly at the ceiling.

“I thought, she could, she would,” I said, “find it in her heart to forgive me.”

“There, there,” Death comforted me.



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