SHAKING HANDS WITH DEATH

“Bugger!”

EXCUSE ME?

I looked back straight into two blue lights. He was taller than I had imagined him. Taller and somehow less frightful up close.

“Sorry, I didn’t know…”

IT’S QUITE ALL RIGHT. He said grinning even more than usual. PEOPLE OFTEN DON’T KNOW. ESPECIALLY WHEN I’M INVOLVED.

He was watching me carefully. I had an uncomfortable feeling that he knew what I was thinking about.

 Dark figure in the middle of life. Ironically.

“Are you on official business today?”

NO. I’M GOING TO A PARTY. He said calmly as if nothing had happened. But then again he always was calm.

“At a time like this?”

He pointed at his robe. There was a big bright yellow sticker on it. It said “Terry Pratchett fan and proud”.

“Oh, I see.”

I AM SUPPOSED TO MEET THE LIBRARIAN HERE BUT APPARENTLY HE IS LATE. He took out an hourglass from underneath his robe. SORRY, WRONG ONE. He spent another minute looking for something. HE IS NOT LATE, I’M JUST EARLY.

He looked at his wrist where a silvery blue watch reflected the light from his eye sockets.

TIME IS IRRELEVANT FOR ME. FOR SIR TERRY AS WELL. He stared at my face and for the first time he understood what it meant to be a human. IT’S OK TO BE SAD ABOUT HIM. I’M SAD. He put his bony hand on my shoulder and took out a tissue from his robe. HERE WE GO.

He took my hand and shook it gently.

I HAVE TO GO BEFORE THOSE LITTLE BLUE DEVILS APPEAR. I DON’T THINK I CAN STAND THAT AMOUNT OF SWEARING RIGHT NOW.

I nodded half laughing, half crying.

WE WILL MEET AGAIN. He said to me and disappeared.