Post by death on Dec 26, 2015 0:30:54 GMT -8
It was night.
One could tell from the giant moon floating overhead, hanging there like a lantern outside Death's window. This was the portal to Death's world for the last few months. She watched the seasons change, watched the summer sun dwindle in heat, counted the leaves as they fell from the trees, felt the coldness of the glass windows as the snow fell.
Death herself was watching the moon rise from her bed, snug in the white covers which were almost suffocating at times. The room itself was filled with flowers and books to keep her company with the bed pushed right up to the window. Right now, her bed was filled with small origami creatures and flowers, products of the origami books she had started to read. She had been busy making them, something to keep her occupied when she was awake.
Death felt stronger than she initially but progress was slow. Sometimes she thought she had enough strength to walk outside to winter's snow, only to have gravity tell her no and forced her down to her knees outside her sickroom door.
And tonight, she should be sleeping, resting, but no- she was waiting for something.
After a moment, a pigeon flew to her window and pecked at the glass. In an instant, Death threw off her covers and opened the window to let the little bird in.
"Was the snow bad? Are you cold?" She asked the pigeon as if it was a real person. The pigeon hopped into the room and shook his feathers free of snow before nesting on Death's bed, cooing at her. Death cupped her hands around the pigeon with a small smile.
She had sent a letter out with a small origami crane. The bird had been the mailman. The letter said:
The letter then details directions to her room. She wasn't expecting Owen to come immediately. It was the dead of night after all. But she just wanted the apprentice to know she was thinking about him.
One could tell from the giant moon floating overhead, hanging there like a lantern outside Death's window. This was the portal to Death's world for the last few months. She watched the seasons change, watched the summer sun dwindle in heat, counted the leaves as they fell from the trees, felt the coldness of the glass windows as the snow fell.
Death herself was watching the moon rise from her bed, snug in the white covers which were almost suffocating at times. The room itself was filled with flowers and books to keep her company with the bed pushed right up to the window. Right now, her bed was filled with small origami creatures and flowers, products of the origami books she had started to read. She had been busy making them, something to keep her occupied when she was awake.
Death felt stronger than she initially but progress was slow. Sometimes she thought she had enough strength to walk outside to winter's snow, only to have gravity tell her no and forced her down to her knees outside her sickroom door.
And tonight, she should be sleeping, resting, but no- she was waiting for something.
After a moment, a pigeon flew to her window and pecked at the glass. In an instant, Death threw off her covers and opened the window to let the little bird in.
"Was the snow bad? Are you cold?" She asked the pigeon as if it was a real person. The pigeon hopped into the room and shook his feathers free of snow before nesting on Death's bed, cooing at her. Death cupped her hands around the pigeon with a small smile.
She had sent a letter out with a small origami crane. The bird had been the mailman. The letter said:
"I made this crane and it reminded me of you like many birds do. I miss running out in the fields with you and watching the stars. I miss picking flowers with you and braiding them into crowns.
How are you Owen? I wish I can see you again. Would you come see me?"
How are you Owen? I wish I can see you again. Would you come see me?"
The letter then details directions to her room. She wasn't expecting Owen to come immediately. It was the dead of night after all. But she just wanted the apprentice to know she was thinking about him.