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Friday, December 6, 2013

The Face of Death

All is Death and Death is all. No one survives Death, all things it consumes. We might forget Death, but he will always be there waiting for the time to consume our souls. And one day he will consume your. What will you do then? Run? Well he'll catch up soon enough. As for me, I didn't run. I stood my ground till I fell; and even then I still swung my sword.
But I'm not here to talk about how I died. That is a tale for another time, a much quieter time than this. After all, who would want to talk about his death as he looks out into the world one last time? I'm here to talk about Death. That's a much more pleasant subject to talk about then about my death.

He was a pleasant man, Death. He had a warm smile framed against his ebony face. His hands were frail but gentle, and I felt his smooth skin as he placed his palm on my forehead. It was not so different from being touched by a small branch of a very old oak tree. When he touched me I was filled with a sudden warmth, and I blinked my eyes in surprise.

When I opened them I looked around to find my home. A warm fire was burning in the hearth, and my wife was knitting on the rocking chair I made her for her last birthday. It was made out of the same tree the rest of the furniture was made out of. I had saved that last piece of wood to make something special when I finished building the house, and on my wife's last birthday it has found its purpose.

The air was filled with the smell of smoked meat and warm butter. I could hear the boys playing outside. Apparently I was sitting on a chair close to the window. I saw them running by and smiled at the thought of how much they looked like me. I got up off the chair and went over to my wife to give her a warm kiss, at last I was home after so long being away for the war. But as I tried to place my hand on her head my hand just went through her like smoke.

I looked around in surprise to find an old man just outside the doorway. Then it all came back to me; the war, the battlefield, my wounds, and him. He looked at me with a mournful expression, like a long lost relative that has to go after a short visit. I saw him nod his head and smile as the scene dissolved around me. Before I could say no I was back on the battlefield.

The earth under me was wet with blood, I knew that the bleeding wouldn't stop after such a major wound. The man was there kneeling beside me. I cried, I didn't want to leave my family. My beloved wife and my dearest children, I couldn't just leave them alone. The man, who now I know as Death, just looked down on me sadly, a small smile wrapped thinly across his face. The small smile game me warmth again.

He nodded again, a final nod of farewell. It was sort of ironic that the man that had waited all these years to reach for my soul only got to see me this one time as I move on to the next world. He gently laid one hand on my forehead, and the other one lightly grasping my hands. The he sang a soft tune and I immediately felt drowsy. He said one word, sleep, and I felt the warmth sweeping over me again like a blanket and I gently fell asleep. Just before I drifted off I felt the world change, and suddenly I was back at my home. I was laying down on my wife's lap as she stroked my hair gently. I let out a big sigh and fell asleep to the sound of her singing a soft lullaby.

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