A Conversation With Death
As I sat on the bus on my ride to work, a stranger sat down next to me. The bus was all but empty, but yet the stranger picked the seat right next to me. The stranger looked me up and down, his breathing labored.
"You know I've been after you for many many years, but you always seem to elude me" The stranger said.
"I'm sorry but I don't know you sir"
I responded with a stern look his direction. A closer look at the stranger allowed me to see nothing. He was cloaked with a hood, his clothes tattered and torn, his smell was horrible and he appeared unwashed for weeks.
"You know me, everyone knows me, we just haven't spoken until now my friend"
the stranger said. The tone of his voice was deep, yet familiar and calming. He seemed to chose his words wisely.
“Many times in your life you have called out to me, sometimes as a response to anger or grief, other time from pain and heartache. Yes my friend you know me and have asked for me many times”
Allowing his words to set in I wanted to think carefully about what he was saying, could it be that death itself was here with me? On a bus as I head to work? And if so why? So many questions yet so little time. The bus ride would only last for a while longer.
“Death? Your death and you have come to collect me?”
The stranger reached out for my hand, his fingers unusually long and thin, his touch was cold. His skin tone was very gray.
“Yes I am Death, but I'm not here to collect you. I've tried many times in the past and you have always eluded me” said death.
“I don't understand, how have you tried to collect me? And why me?” I asked Death just as he withdrew his hand. Sitting back In the seat next to me, Death tried to appear as human as possible during our conversation.
“Death eventually comes for everyone. Youre no more special than anyone else. To answer your first question would be much harder. You see I don't try and collect you unless you have given me the opportunity. You have done this many many times over the years.” Death kept his answers cryptic, never revealing anything more than a vague response.
“You mean when I called to you? These are the times you would try and collect me?”
“No, if it were that simple than I would have collect far too many by now. At some point in everyone's life they have called out to me, often times more than once. It is through your choices that you have given me the greatest chance.”
Death was methodical in his response, yet still not directly answering me.
“Tell me then Death, when have I given you the chance to collect me?”
The bus slowly comes to a stop as death gets up and exits the bus, stopping just before he left and says,
“We will talk again soon for there is much to discuss and you fascinate me”
With that Death vanished in the moonless dawn and I continued to work. Perhaps soon I'll know why Death could never take me when it wanted. I carried on with my day, my thoughts tangled in the what if. Never straying away from the short yet confusing conversation with death itself. In an odd sort of way I found myself intrigued at the thought of talking to Death again. Always with the caution of courting Death and what that could bring on. As the day ended, I made the long walk to the bus stop. Upon arriving at the stop, and while waiting for the bus, I was joined once again by death. Still cloaked and dirty, smelly and cold, Death looks at me with curiosity.
“You asked when you had given me a chance to collect you earlier. Many times at your lowest points in life I have waiting patiently for you, but there was someone there to pick you up, denying me what I wanted. You made choices that put you in harm's way many times and I have been there waiting but you would come out unharmed. So I was denied. You seem to have escaped me many many times.”
Death spoke with much frustration, spelling out the many times he has waited for me.
“I'm nobody special, why me?”
Death stands and follows me on the bus, as we take a seat he explains.
“You have lived a good and careful life, you seldom make bad choices, but when you do it then that I wait, hope that today I'll collect the careful one. This is my every desire, a desire you deny me.”
“Why would you tell me this?”
“I can only hope, going forward, that you begin to second guess your choices in life”
With that Death vanished, leaving me to ponder this new meaning of life and this game of chess that Death wishes to play. But I will not change, I will not alter course and I certainly will not over think my every move.
Live, simply live!
@ellowrites @ellopoetry @apoem4u @booksnips @gypsy @halfdemon @melissadawn #writer #story <a href="/search?terms=%23amaturewriter" data-href="/search?terms=%23amaturewriter" data-capture="hashtagClick" class="hashtag-link">#amaturewriter #cfs2016
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