Dialogue with Death

Death was born incorporeal, a kind of soul without a shell - by the Creator's design, or perhaps his mistake. And like a fallen angel, this soul had to kill to acquire temporary shelters - bodies.

The choice was limitless: it could be anyone and anytime. Like a woman who changes outfits several times a day. However, it's not a fact that Death was a woman. And certainly not a banal old woman with a scythe.

Imagine: under the guise of a young beauty, she takes the life of a rich man at the moment of his highest bliss. A beautiful death! The girl did her job, maybe even enjoyed it. And if not, well, the job is done. Onward, to a new body, a new image.

One shouldn't blame Death for mass deaths due to wars, epidemics, or disasters. That's the Creator's domain. Death is merely his servant, occupied with trifles.

Although sometimes he went beyond the scope. Perhaps, taking revenge on the Creator for his unfortunate birth. When the Creator slept, Death, with the assistance of the devil, arranged bloodbaths. At least some entertainment, compensation for moral damage.

If you realize that Death is always near, in any of us - in the body of a pretty neighbor or an old baker - you can try to talk to it. And if such a dialogue took place, it might look like this.

A young man sits in a bar, contemplating the Eternal over a mug of ale. A mysterious stranger sits down next to him and, to strike up a conversation, orders him a double whiskey. The young man doesn't refuse, because he doesn't know who he's dealing with. The evening promises to be interesting.

The stranger, as if reading his thoughts, asks: "What do you know about Death?"

- It's the end of life. Or do you think otherwise?

- The end is always a beginning. Is that bad?

- And what's good about death?

- It's a solution to many problems. For example, a person who is sick for a long time and suffers. He desires death and prays for it. And then, one day...

- There's little beauty in that. Especially since, when dying, a person is afraid of loneliness. In illness, he was not alone.

- Could you befriend death?

- If it had a human form. Although, what's the use of friendship with death? Can it be trusted, like a friend?

- And do you trust life?

- Good question. It often lets me down. It's easier for me to explain my failures that way.

- So maybe the idea of friendship with death isn't so bad?

- You ask so many questions about death. And what do you know about life?

- They are both on duty. Each has its own time, its own shift. Although it would be wrong to assume that they have a clear schedule. After all, sometimes people die during the day.

- So, life is on schedule?

- You could say that. By the way, what do you think, is death a woman?

- Possibly. Like life.

- Did you just imagine an old woman with a scythe?

- As if you read my thoughts. But you know, if it's a woman, it's better if she looks like you.

- I like the way you think. More whiskey?

- Yes, of course. And why aren't you drinking? Afraid of losing control?

- Could you fall in love with me?

- I'm sobering up. Maybe something's wrong with the whiskey? Are you looking for love?

- Everyone is looking for it. I'm afraid of loneliness, are you?

- Are you afraid of death?

- Rather, life. It has a strange schedule. Unpredictable. It seems a person is already dying - the job is done. But he starts clinging to life, and it fights for him. If I were death, I would start to get jealous. Because life is love.

- And could you fall in love with me?

- You're cute. But that's not enough. Maybe I need more time to understand you.

- Now it's my treat. Waiter, two double whiskeys! By the way, you're a mystery to me. You're like you can read my thoughts.

- Are you talking about the whiskey?

- Don't joke with me. You know what I'm talking about.

- Perhaps, yes. We are somewhat alike.

- Are you... are you Death?

- What do you think?

The young man gazes into the stranger's eyes, trying to find the answer. But he sees only his own anxiety, reflected in her dark pupils.