Death Reaps Life


The sound of glasses colliding, triggering dynamic rivulets of frosty sweat. It is the only sound possible here, at the very end of all things. And even that is a lie, because there is no here. Certainly there is no atmosphere upon which vibrations might carry information, libatory or otherwise. And yet.

“Lemonade?”, Death asked.

“Martini time is over, old friend”, Life replied, equably enough.

“Nonsense, it’s always happy hour somewhere. Even when there is no where. It’s a state of mind anyway.”.

Life greeted this drinker’s wisdom with a small smile. “Are we going to remain so different, even up until this, the very end?”

“Perhaps, but soon it won’t matter, either way.” Death pauses, then asks, intently, “Are you afraid?”

“Of my oldest companion as he simply does as he must? No, I am not afraid. We have both done all we can with what we have experienced. What more could any being ask for?” And now it is Life’s turn to pause, turning reflective, rather than intent, before continuing.

“I am curious, however. What comes next?”

“Let’s find out together.”

There were no more sounds.

This was my first writing prompt attempt, responding to a post on reddit.