#lonely lady

…at the end of the tunnel you will find the light…

With her niece

This is a conversation between Death and yourself, Lonely Lady.

Death: It is time.

Lonely Lady: Time? For what?

Death: Time to ferry you to the afterlife.

Lonely Lady: Oh. Already?

Death: Yes.

Lonely Lady: Could we...I mean, if you wouldn't mind. Could we take a walk first? I don't think I'm ready just yet.

Death: Sigh...so long as you know, taking a walk doesn't prolong the inevitable. Especially since it already happened.

Lonely Lady: Oh, no, yes, of course. I'm not running, I just...it's so beautiful here. I don't want to leave just yet. A short stroll along the water would be nice before we go.

Lonely Lady: Do you like the water? I do. I find it...peaceful. Calming.

Death: Yes. Water is nice. Relaxing.

Death: We can take a walk.

Lonely Lady: Are you cold? I know it's a bit chill out, given that it's only just February, but those robes do seem fairly thick. Do you get cold easy?

Death: It's hard to get cold without skin, miss. But thank you for your concern.

Lonely Lady: Fair enough, fair enough. How is that, if I may ask? Not having skin, that is. Is it something that happened, or just how you were...were you born? Created?

Lonely Lady: Death as a concept is easy to conceive, but as a real person, it's all a bit...fuzzy.

Death: That's a fickle matter. I don't know if I was born or created, but since there has been life, I have existed.

Death: It was easy, in the early years. Things didn't have souls. No need to ferry them. Then sentient life came into being and it became harder. Much harder.

Lonely Lady: Oh, I don't doubt that it has, but in what way? I mean, physically, it must be difficult, I'm guessing a lot of people are scared or shocked and try to flee, yeah? But is it hard emotionally? Mentally? I can't imagine you can go so long on your own without feeling some sort of burden.

Death: It's tiring. I don't need rest, but I feel tired. So many souls, each with their own regrets.

Death: At first I tried to pray for each and every soul lost but...what's the point? I've seen where they're going personally. I know they'll never get over not seeing their friends and family ever again...

Lonely Lady: I know I'm probably not allowed to ask what happens to them--us--I don't even know if I'd want to know. But...can I ask if they're all like that? Isn't there anyone that, I don't know...dies happy? No regrets, no pain, no missing; just...happy.

Death: A few. Just today I ferried a little girl named Poppy. She had no regrets and just wanted to have tea with me.

Lonely Lady: Oh, that is precious. Do you like tea? Do you even...I mean, do you require...can you eat? And drink?

Death: I don't need nourishment, and I can't taste anything.

Lonely Lady: I'd offer my condolences, but I feel as though they'd be wasted. You seem to be alright with who you are, or at least accepting of it. Do you have any regrets?

Death: Regrets... People I couldn't ferry. It's a fate much worse than eternal punishment.

Lonely Lady: Why couldn't you ferry them..?

Death: They refused. They ran away. I couldn't catch them.

Lonely Lady: *gently touches your arm* I'm sorry they ran. If it's any consolation, I don't believe there's anything you could have done to change it. You're a very...*searching for the word*...welcoming person. A comfort, really.

Lonely Lady: *quietly, to self* Perhaps that's just me.

Death: *Death would smile if he could* Thank you, miss. What about yourself? We've been talking all about me, but what about you?

Lonely Lady: Me? Oh, well, I'm an open book! *throws arms wide in an over-enthused gesture* What would you like to know?

Death: Let's start with your name and what you did for a living.

Lonely Lady: Samantha. Well, Sam, really. Some of my friends call me Sammy.

Lonely Lady: You can, if you like.

Death: That's a pretty name, Sammy.

Lonely Lady: *laughs* Oh, sure it is. Thank you though...what should I call you?

Lonely Lady: Is Death a formal thing, or do you prefer it or something else?

Death: Call me whatever you like. I have no preference for any name.

Lonely Lady: Aye aye, sir Deathly McDeatherson.

Death: Heh. Cute. What was your job while living?

Lonely Lady: Well, that's a bit, er, complicated I suppose? Although, I guess not really, you've probably experienced a lot of complicated things. I'm babbling, anyway. I used to work at a Taco Bell, cashier; it was sort of lame, but I mean, I liked it, for the most part! Up until about a year ago, at least. I had some health complications, mental, physical, psychological; whole nine yards sort of thing. Seizures are not fun, by the way, don't recommend them. Had to stop working after that.

Death: Oh. My apologies. That must've been very hard for you.

Lonely Lady: Nothing to apologize for, really. Things like that just sort of happen in life; you don't really have any more control over that than I do, ha. *smiles sadly*

Death: ...Any hobbies?

Lonely Lady: ART!

Lonely Lady: Oh, jeeze, that was loud.

Lonely Lady: I, um, I like...art. Photography, mostly. But everything, really. Sketching, painting, sculpting...I'm going to college to be a graphic designer! Or, well, I was, I guess I should say.

Death: You were quite talented then. I would have loved to see your work. And you seem a lot nicer than other artists I've ferried.

Lonely Lady: *blushes and stutters* Well, I-I wouldn't say ~talented~ really, I, um, I just sort of never could stick to just one thing, if that makes sense. It was all so...different and beautiful and fun...*drifts off*....*softly* I really loved it.

Lonely Lady: *shakes head* Anyway! Me? Nice? Aww, shucks, mate! Nicer than who?

Death: Pretty much every artist except Bob Ross had something really rude to say while they were on my boat.

Death: Picasso was childish and kept complaining about trivial things. Van Gogh got pissy with me because he had his ear back. Hitler was...well, Hitler.

Death: And DaVinci was legitimately crazy! He kept trying to poke around me, looking for things he hadn't seen on skeletons when he was alive. Then he just went on and on,about medieval robots and the like.

Lonely Lady: *laughing* That sounds like something fitting to DaVinci. Did he?

Lonely Lady: Find anything he hadn't seen on skeletons before, I mean.

Death: No. He got mighty upset at that. I almost chucked him into Styx, but I figured he'd try to divert the river elsewhere and ruin my job...

Lonely Lady: *snort* You're rather funny, you know that?

Lonely Lady: Curious, though, if you think about it. You're a human skeleton, but you've existed since before humans. Or do you change? I mean, have you always been this way, or are you more of a...*waves hand in circles*...like a consciousness that can be transferred? Or a visual illusion, perhaps?

Lonely Lady: Sorry. I ask a lot of questions...

Death: It's fine. And I'm made to upkeep fate, and fate decided that the first sentient lifeforms on Earth would be human. Only fitting that I'd be a human skeleton then, eh?

Lonely Lady: *smiles* I'd say so. Quite so. The boney look suits you, yeah?