Chapter Seven

No one can confidently say that he will still be living tomorrow - Euripides

Chapter Seven

Death was waiting in the Intensive Care Unit of a children’s hospital in Germany. In the bed, well, crib, she was watching was a very ill two month old.

She didn’t particularly like collecting children. On the one hand, it meant they would get a pass on this life. On the other hand, it meant they missed out on this life. Still, her job was her job, even the less pleasant parts.

The equipment monitoring the child’s heartbeat sounded an alarm, and seconds later, a team of nurses and doctors appeared. Death sighed, and checked off an item on her list.

Moments later, the infant’s soul was next to her. She was not particularly surprised to see that the soul actually looked like an old woman. Reincarnated souls took a while to get accustomed to their new bodies, and so they usually appeared however they had appeared in their previous life.

She was, however, surprised by what the soul first said to her.

“You again?”

Death recognized her, of course, as Maria Stevens, recently collected.

“I have to admit, I didn’t expect to see you again so soon,” Death said.

“Yeah, I get back here for two months, and already I’m dead again. How unfair is that?”

“It is not fair or unfair, it simply is.”

“Bullshit. I spent the last three years of my life as a forgetful, mean lunatic, and I come back only to die after two months. That is unfair.”

Death had to admit it was incredibly bad timing. Death was also aware, however, that Fate could be a real bitch.

“Will you walk with me, again?” Death asked the soul.

“Sure, why not. What have I got to lose?” Recently-But-Not-Presently-Maria-Stevens replied.

Death and the soul stepped into the next world. As the doorway approached, the soul said, “I hope I have better luck this time.”

“So do I,” Death replied.

The soul stepped through the gateway and was gone. Death returned to our world.

“Well, that sucked,” she said.

Right about now, a beer would taste awfully good, she thought. Have a beer and go to bed. That would be perfect.

She couldn’t recall the last time she’d been in bed. For a moment, she was jealous of the dead. Ultimately, every mortal would eventually get a break. Her phone beeped then.

Great, she thought, and set off to the next death.