Majella Reid

By Majella Reid

We walked along the narrow, country road, Death and I. The rugged grey stone walls travelled up to our waists on either side, while the ground between us was thick with damp, coarse grass.

Death’s eyes were unseen in the cascading moonlight. Around his torso, he wore a long, deep purple cloak, hooded and tied casually at the neck. He carried with him his large, silver sickle that gleamed as it moved alongside his purposeful stride.

He seemed quiet on this cool winter’s night.

“Your thoughts, my friend?” I asked, my voice even.

“I am neither friend nor foe,” he replied matter-of-factly.

I contemplated his words.

“Why do you feel you are not my friend, Death?”

“You do not invite me to dinner,” he said, a throaty laugh lifting his humour.

I smiled as I confessed, “No, you are not a welcome guest for many.”

“Ah, let us not forget those who wait for me. Bellies full of life, memories packed to capacity. Now, anxious to be rid of the aching pains of an aged body. THEY welcome me!”

I nodded in agreement. “Yes, they do. And then there are those whose bodies and minds simply cannot take anymore of what life is offering. Do not forget those!” I said.

Death bent his head towards me and smiled a wicked smile, “I forget no one, my lady. Not even those who think they know me well enough to remind me of my place in this world.”

It was true. One day, Death would come for me. And it would not be for our walks down the country lane. It would be for Life’s greatest transition. My transition.

“Do I make you nervous?” he asked me, reading my thoughts and leaning a little closer.

“No,” I answered, jutting out my chin just a little.

“Not even slightly?” he murmured as he moved closer still.

“I am ready,” I said defiantly.

“Well, I am not,” he said pulling back. “Your time will come. Of that you can be certain. But for now, you walk this path with me for you are a part of Life and I am Death.  Side by side, we will continue.”

He ventured further down the path, oblivious to the cold that pinched my skin.

“There are those who seek to cheat me,” he laughed looking back as I hurried to catch up with him. “Those who live their lives as if their time will never come, lost in the vicious and repetitive cycles of life. Never once stopping and wondering what more there is.”

“They do not understand,” I said simply. “They do not know who you truly are.”

He leaned over me and asked, “Do you know who I truly am?”

I shook my head honestly.

“I am the return home. The intersection between two worlds; the world of now and the world of beyond.”

“What is ‘the world of beyond’?” I asked as I looked up into his large, hollow eyes.

“It is the home of Spirit, the essence to which you and all living beings belong,” he said. He smiled as he saw me contemplate his answer. I shivered.

“It is a big thought. And like all big thoughts, it should be contemplated over a cup of hot chocolate. It is time you were home, enjoying such a beverage,” he said.

There was a flash of white light and I was alone on the country lane, mere steps from my warm hearth and kitchen.

Death was gone. But he would come again. Of that I was certain.