I wonder who that could be. The thought wandering through my mind as I was not expecting guests. I left the kitchen where I was preparing my sandwich and answered the door. “Hello?” I say as the door swings open. My heart stops. The long black cloak and scythe unmistaken by anyone. Death was at my house. My hand goes to my chest as I fall to the floor. My breathing grows heavy as I back away. ” Why… Why are you here?” I barely manage to say as my heart tries to escape my chest. He says not a word as he makes his way to my kitchen. I scramble to get up off the floor and follow him. “Why are you in my house?” He looks at me with a look in his eye that says it’s not my turn to speak. He gestures for me to take a seat. Sitting down I watch as he sits across from me. Looking down at my sandwich he then pushes it towards me. I look at it questionable, refusing to take a bite. Unsure of what might have been done to it. “Why, my dear, do you refuse to eat? You did make this sandwich with that as the intent, did you not?” I look at the sandwich then back to him “excuse me when I say, but I do mean no offense, how do I know I won’t die if I eat It? You are death aren’t You? Or am I mistaken?” He scoffs as he answers my question with a question “Why would it matter? Do you not wish to die?” Everything inside me sinks. He’s right. I do wish to die. Why does it matter than? “While you ponder over the answer allow me to tell you. You do not wish to die. You just feel you ran out of options. Although you are still hopeful a new option will show itself between now and then. You would rather live happy than this pain you face daily however, you never see that as a possibility. But for as long you have that small spark of hope, I promise you won’t touch your lunch no matter how hungry you get.” Silently he gets up from his seat and walks back out the door closing it behind him. My eyes following him until I hear the click of the door and then they go back to looking at the sandwich. My stomach growls. Picking up the sandwich I throw it out, with the smallest spark of hope left. Smiling i think to myself, one day the spark will blaze again.
Lunch with Death