Amusing Death

Death: Fancy meeting you here!
Me: Whaaa?! HEY! This is MY dream and really that should have been MY line!
Death: Oh don't be so uptight who cares who says the line?
Me: Well, I do, because it's MY dream! And I'm not uptight, I'm clearly relaxed otherwise I wouldn't be asleep and wouldn't be dreaming.
Death(sarcastically): ooooh how clever!
Me(ignoring that): So what brings you here anyway? I'm pretty certain I didn't have any underlying wish to see you anytime soon before I fell asleep.
Death: Well, I thought I'd pay you a visit.
Me: And.....?
Death: What? Can't I just visit with no ulterior motives?
Me: Riiiight. Sure you can.
Death (frowning): Your words are positive but your tone speaks otherwise. It always amazes me how you manage to make positive words sound so disagreeable.
Me: Well, I guess I have a gift. So stop skirting the issue and answer my question already.
Death: (sighs) It's rather complicated actually, I was just walking around minding my own business when I just happen to see that you were dreaming and though I'd come by because I was along the way anyway and you know you never really know when your subconscious calls to me and everything (breathes) and here I am!
Me: In other words, you missed me and wanted to come by to chat.
Death: Weeell....if you insist.
Me: Hah! I should just ignore you now.
Death: Oh come on! You know you don't want to.
Me: And if I really do?
Death (pouts): Look at this face, why would you wanna hurt this face?
Me (laughs): Ok ok alright already anything but that!
Death: (still pouting) Are you sure? Because I can hold this.
Me: Yes yes I'm sure. So what didja wanna talk about?
Death: Hmmm what's up with you?
Me: Oh nothing much apart from the fact that you're taking away all my friends and family and people that I love.
Death: Well you know the deal.
Me: Yeah. So when's it my turn already?
Death: Do you really want to know?
Me: No, not really. There's isn't much point to knowing is there? Some things will just have to be left undone and one will just have to go with some regrets. Otherwise it wouldn't be living at all would it?
Death: In a way. You've gotten wiser since the last time.
Me: Have I? Hmmm maybe it's got to do with growing older you think?
Death: My my, such sarcasm in one so young!
Me: Well, I learnt from the best!
Death: Oh I'm flattered.
Me: I didn't say it was you.
Death: That's ok you don't have to.
Me: Well, there goes humility...out the window...bye bye humility!
Death (giggles): You're too much! I can't wait to come get you.
Me: Please, take your time, no hurry.
Death: Oh so now you don't want to die?
Me: (wry smile) Can't say I don't, can't say I do.
Death: Something happened?
Me: Not really. It's just a realisation. You only want to live when there are things worth living for, but then even when there aren't things worth living for, you find that you don't have any reason to die either.
Death: So you've found something worth living for?
Me: Well, I'm not sure about that, but there are things that have made my heart pound in my chest and the sun shine through the clouds. Though most of the time, I still live in pain and misery.
Death: You know you always have a choice.
Me: I know. I just don't want to make it.
Death: So you would exist in such a state just because you're afraid of making the wrong choice?
Me: Hmmm there will never really be a right choice for me because any one that I choose will automatically become the wrong one because that's human nature in a way.
Death: Were they giving out cynicism or something at the last party?
Me: Dunno, were they giving out sarcasm at the one you were at?
Death: Touche!
Me: (sticks out my tongue at Death)
Death: Do you want to muse some more or shall we start playing cards already?
Me: Why do we always play cards you think?
Death: How should I know? We could always play checkers or chess.
Me: Nah! Checkers are for old people and I ain't that old yet also, I don't know how to play chess.
Death: Well, I could teach you.
Me: No thanks I might get so bored that I wake up.
Death: (puzzled silence)
Me: Some people just can't appreciate good humour.
Death: ....
Me: So deal the cards already.
Death: They aren't playing cards.
Me: Yes, I know. We're playing UNO!
Death: You're strange you know that.
Me: Yes and you just can't get enough.
Death: What were you saying about humility?
Me: Just deal already and no cheating!

And then there was she

In the beginning, God created woman and He made her perfect in every way and then He told her that she would have to pretend that she wasn't so that she would be loved. The die was cast and the wheels of Fate started to turn. The woman in her bid to be loved fell lower and lower into the depths of imperfection and soon she too believed the lies which were told to her. Generations upon generations of Fathers, Brothers, Husbands and Sons made her believe that she was always perfect and yet never enough. So she went on searching and trying and yearning.

The woman is perfect in every way except this, she knows not her perfection and therefore believes that she doesn't deserve to be loved because of it. Every declaration of love is accepted with just a little tinge of suspicion but enough to ruin everything. She will keep trying to gain that perfect love but will always fall short of it and in doing so, she will keep running and never really giving all of herself. Eventually all that will be left is herself.

Eternity

He first met her during the height of the Roman Empire. He was a high ranking roman and she, a mere slave in his household. He had a wife then and children too but that was merely a formality, a way for him to get ahead. She was what he looked forward too in both his sleeping and waking moments. All these were things she couldn't possible know being just a slave.
He wanted her but he also wanted her to come to him of her own accord. He loved her and wanted merely a reciprocation of this love. He wooed her as boldly as he might and soon she overcame her suspicions and submitted to his adorations. But this was to be only the beginning of the tragic love story that would span centuries and lifetimes.
When he was alive, he gave her 2 greatest gifts a man could give. His undying love and her freedom. She gave him all she had to give, her whole self and a promise to love him for all eternity.
A promise made by one so pure as she, could only be taken as a vow before the gods and they held her to it mercilessly.
When he died, she was devastated and stayed nightly by his grave refusing to leave him except by the light of day for that was when his family would come to make sure his name was not sullied by her pressence. So she came only in the shadows of the night, a secret forever, a shadow until the day she too passed away.

The second time he met her was on market day in the dark ages. He was a mere peasant and she, gentry. Oh what a reversal of fortunes and yet still his love forher burned strong. She, as if remembering the promise made a lifetime ago, noticed him immediately and set her heart upon being with him. She forsook everything only to have him betray her for even though her soul remembered her vow, his soul had long forgotten his. So in the end, even love was not enough for as soon as his hunger for her had been satisfied, his desire for survival took over and he fled for fear of death and left her ruined and disgraced fit only to be killed. She died loving him, forgiving and understanding.

The next time they met, he was the Witch hunter General and she the accused. He loved her and coverted her and there was nothing to stop him from taking what he wanted and then silencing her after if only she didn't love him back with such ardour. The purity of her spirit and the intensity of her love captured and imprisoned him and they made they escape in the dead of the night. It was 5 years before they were discovered, a man and wife with a babe in arms captured and brought to trial. She was evermore the witch then for having bewitched him and using his essence to create a perfect human body for the spawn of the devil. They condemmed her to burn but not before they wrenched the babe from her arms and drowned him before her very eyes to kill her spirit. The day she hung, he swung too but in his own dark cell away from the crowd.

Now their paths have crossed once again and once again they've met, collided and loved. But perhaps with the trials so vividly present in his mind he cannot let himself go for fear that he will lose her again. But she, she cannot help but love him for her vow was one made to last for all eternity and no matter what form she has taken or which century it is, she will always find him and love him regardless of whether he would be able to love her back. Hers was not an easy vow to make but she made it anyway without knowing but accepting nonetheless. How many lifetimes have passed and how much suffering she has endured for him and still she goes on loving him until the very end when there is no life to come back to and no century to live.

The Moth

31 degrees and not even a breeze to stir the leaves in the trees. The air is so still and thick with heat from the pavement that breathing is an effort. The apartment is an oven trapping in the heat without giving it any place to escape. Darkness enshrouds the city suffocating it, suffocating me. I fling open the doors of my balcony waiting for just that little bit of wind, but the air is sluggish and warm and discomforting. Nothing to do now but sleep. The heat makes me drowsy and the warm air coaxes me slowly into dreamland where I will dream of ice and snow. Then I hear it, in the darkness, a soft fluttering. The sound of something soft hitting against the walls. The heat has made me sluggish and I move not a muscle only listening now to the flutter of something against the walls of the apartment. Then I hear it louder this time, a 'tchi tchi' sound near my ear and then the feeling of something landing on my bare skin. The ticklish feel of feet walking slowly down my arm. Soft wings tap tap tap and I open my eyes to see a huge furry brown moth looking up at me with beady black eyes as if daring me to move or protest. I freeze instantly and the urge to shake it off becomes unbearable. I can feel it molesting me with its furry fat body, full or yellow pus and powder. I wait a second longer and then I shake my arm to dislodge it. As if sensing resistance, the moth clings on with its sticky feet. I can feel it wrap its wings around my arm to hold on so I grab the nearest magazine handy and sweep it off. It takes to the air and in the darkness I am blinded, uncertain of where it has gone with only my sense of hearing to guide me. I can hear it swooping down on me. I can hear it's powdery wings flapping near my head waiting to get caught in the tangles of my hair. I stiffle an urge to scream for fear of revealing my position to the invader. There is silence for a bit and then wings against my cheeks, it's a full frontal attack! I dive and run blindly into my room shutting the door behind me. I lie in bed, exhausted and unable to think. I drift slowly into dreamland only to be rudely awaken by a tickle near my ear. The wings flap and the sound is amplified tens and thousands of times. The first reaction of the hand moves to swipe at the tickle even before the brain can register the stupidity of the action.

The hand is successful and the flapping stops. The brain finally registers the results and the heart sinks in realisation. I make my way to the bathroom dreading the glare of light which would reveal the horrid remains of my attacker. Already a pungent odour is emitting from the remains. The light shows me fleaks of brown powder stuck onto my hair and some yellow pus-like substance on my ear. Looking down, I see the remains of a beady black eye and some part of the body. Every bit of my body shudders and tenses up as I run my fingers under the tap. I hastly strip and take a quick shower washing the insides of my ear making sure not to have any of the flimsy bits of wing washed down the ear canal and into my body. Like Lady Macbeth I scrub till my skin is raw and thus having satisfied with the results I head to be, but sleep was to ellude me like it did Lady Macbeth for each time I closed my eyes, the remains of the eye of the moth would appear unbidden in my mind and each time I turn my head, the pungent odour still lingers. Every strand of hair that flies across my face is another moth swooping in for the attack. My mind imagines the moth reassembling pieces of itself to come back for a second attack. I hear the constant fluttering fluttering of dry wispy wings and I am haunted by the image of a dozen moths invading my room.
Unable to return to my peaceful slumber I switch on the lights to find that I was not imagining anything at all. The room is full of them, all brown and furry fluttering around in a mad frenzy making all those noises and staring at me with their beady black eyes. I have no escape from them now and they will have me!

The men stand outside the room looking in, observing the strange behaviour of the girl within. Her repeated actions of washing and cleaning and then her mad frenzied ducking, diving and running as if being attacked by flying things. The scribble something in their files and move on.