Pliabilities

An Unusal Request

It wasn't your usual kind of request.

"Would you follow me?" Death asked.

"Are you yanking my chain?" I winced. "What choice do I have?"

"I'm not talking about the end of life." Death smirked. "I'm suggesting a new beginning."

Oh, so he wanted to toy with me. I remained silent.

"You know how you whine and suffer over your puny self-regulating problems? How about if instead of taking your mind's lead for granted, you listen to mine instead?"

"But you're the biggest problem of all!"

"No, my dear, you've got it backwards. I'm the biggest solution of all." What a load of crap. But what did I expect from Death? "Let me ask you a question," Death continued. "How did I convince you to lament about your job, or over what a co-worker did, or how you were cut off in traffic?"

The dude had a point. But he couldn't convince me he wasn't a problem.

"I know you like to blame me, but I'm not a problem. I am a certainty. The only certainty. And as long as I haven't decided your time is up, then isn't every day, every moment, a gift? And if this is true, why do you insist on wasting so much of it on so much of nothing? I'm telling you, if you allowed the certainty of Death to be the basis of your wisdom, you would have a rare jewel indeed. So once more, I'm asking, will you follow me?"

I had no idea Death could be so helpful.

Posted for Vice/Versa #9 @ Poets United</a>