Grim: My Talk with Death

Decent Essays

Today I spoke with death, he was a nice guy, kinda negative but still very nice, could've even been cute if it wasnt for all the bones and rotting skins. We sat at my house drinking tea, sipping it in slowly with great care. It had a good taste, strong, a little sweety because of the sugar.

So, we both sat, staring at each other, at first it was kind of awkward, he didnt speak too much, just sat and drank his tea from that little porcelain cup I took out of the drawer, I only used them on special occassions but hey, its not like you meet death every day isnt it?

"Incorrect". Death replied in his raspy old voice, it seemed like with each word he lifted a heavy burden which weighted on his soul. What struck me as even weirder was the fact that I never spoke up, I never voiced my thoughts... "You did, in your mind." He said again sighing, it was as if he had this conversation a million times already. "I did". He snapped at me. "Well, OK, I'll refrain from thinking out loud around you death." I mumbled embarassed. "Thank you very much my dear." He answered, he sounded a bit like grandmother when I sat at her house and gave her a compliment. He felt very... Very... Home-ish.

"So, how do I call you? Should i just adress to you as Death, or would you like me to call you differently?" I asked with true curiosity, its not like I knew too much about him, her, it, whatever that was which stood infront of me. "Well, it depends... Which of my names would you like to use, is it my full

Get Access