She was there, again. Sitting on a bench as if nothing at all was wrong. He sat down next to her and waited. Somehow, deep down, he'd known when his friends died. All of them. He'd sensed it somehow. One of them had even written down how they were going to die. How did they know? How did they know they would be laying next to a brook as their life slipped away?
"I told them." she who was Death leaned forward to speak. Her face coming into his view.
"And?" he raised one eyebrow. She took it as a challenge.
"And, I told you I took them. As for when and how you will be leaving life, I won't tell you yet." that smile. He shivered again.
Trust him to find out that some people flirt with death, and death flirts with some others. She moved as if to say something, paused, then continued.
"You were a soldier, think about it. You belonged to me. You worked for me." she was right. As a soldier, he was a servant of death. And he wasn't sorry about it. As long as man lived and existed, war would be a necessary evil. She continued.
"When the first man broke the rules, my place was assured for a time. I was given the right to take anyone at any time in any way I chose. As a soldier, you knew all about choices." again, that look that told him he was a choice dessert.
A month had gone by since that conversation. He had a crawling feeling that She was watching him. He'd had some close calls lately. But that was something he'd gotten used to. He looked upwards and sparked something in his memory.
"One of these days you'll push your luck and we'll be burying you. Please, be careful."
*Screeeech BAM*
Oh God.....