[ WP ] You 're in bed with a terrible cold when you look up to see Death sitting in chair on the other side of the room . He is reading a thick book when he looks up and says , `` Do n't worry . Take your time . I just started this ... . ''

It took me a good minute to compose myself. I secretly thanked my parents for blessing me with an impassive face. I knew I didn ’ t look afraid. 
 
 I understood now, clearly, that I was face-to-face with Death. The first thing I noticed was the voice. Death ’ s voice was high-pitched. It was not a deep baritone. I blurted out the first thing that came to my mind - 
 
 ‘ You ’ re a woman? ’ 
 
 ‘ Why, yes. ’ she said softly. She didn ’ t bother to say more. 
 
 I sneezed thrice. I didn ’ t bother to cover my mouth. 
 
 ‘ I ’ m sorry. ’ I said before realising that the probability of Death catching a cold was kinda slim. 
 
 I took the handkerchief by my pillow side and blew my nose. Then I looked up to see that Death had gotten back to her book. It was so rare to meet an earnest reader and ideally I wasn ’ t one to disturb, but I took exception then, because I was in the mood to talk. 
 
 ‘ What are you reading? ’ I asked in mock enthusiasm. 
 
 She didn ’ t respond immediately. She turned a page and lingered on it for a few seconds, before she closed the book and looked up. 
 
 ‘ A Song of Ice and Fire by George R R Martin. ’ she said. 
 
 ‘ Oh, Game of Thrones. Valar Morghulis! ’ 
 
 ‘ Huh? ’ 
 
 ‘ Valar Morghulis? All men must die? ’ 
 
 ‘ Nope. I haven ’ t gotten there yet. ’ she said. It sounded as if this irritated her slightly. Like a mosquito buzzing near her ear. 
 
 ‘ Oh dude! ’ I exclaimed. ‘ You ’ re going to have one helluva ride. Where have you reached? ’ 
 
 She considered me for a second, as if making up her mind whether I was worth a conversation or if she should just rip out my soul and take the next train out. 
 
 ‘ Jon Snow has left for the wall. Neddard and his daughters have left for King ’ s Landing. ’ she said finally. 
 
 ‘ Any direwolves dead yet? ’ 
 
 ‘ What? NO! ’ 
 
 ‘ Oops! Sorry. ’ I said hastily. 
 
 ‘ Don ’ t tell me anything more. I ’ m don ’ t appreciate spoilers. ’ 
 
 ‘ Sure. I ’ m sorry. ’ 
 
 I blew my nose loudly. It reminded me of my mortality. 
 
 ‘ So, ’ I said, wishing to change the topic. ‘ I usually don ’ t mind a girl in my room, but I must ask. Why are you here? ’ 
 
 ‘ You ’ re mostly going. ’ she snapped. 
 
 ‘ Going where? ’ I asked. 
 
 ‘ With me. ’ 
 
 ‘ Where? ’ 
 
 ‘ Out of here. ’ 
 
 ‘ And you? ’ 
 
 ‘ Me? ’ 
 
 ‘ Yeah you. ’ 
 
 ‘ Me what? ’ 
 
 ‘ Where are you going? ’ 
 
 ‘ I ’ ll go on. ’ 
 
 ‘ Go on? ’ 
 
 ‘ Yeah, go on. ’ 
 
 A pause. 
 
 ‘ That ’ s really deep. ’ 
 
 ‘ It ’ s not. It ’ s purely business. ’ she said. 
 
 I dunno if I had imagined it, but I think I saw the slightest hint of disapproval in her tone. I decided to pursue it. 
 
 ‘ You don ’ t like it? ’ I asked tentatively. 
 
 ‘ It's work. ’ she said shortly. 
 
 ‘ Yeah, but you needn ’ t do it if you don ’ t want to. ’ I said. 
 
 ‘ Excuse me? Have you seen anyone else sauntering around in all blacks calling themselves Death? ’ 
 
 If this was a short story, I ’ d have laughed. But I said instead - 
 
 ‘ No. No, I haven ’ t. ’ 
 
 ‘ There you go. ’ she said, as if that explained everything. ‘ So I have to do it. ’ 
 
 I didn ’ t want to probe her further. So Death didn ’ t like her job. Big deal. Nine out of ten people everywhere hated their jobs. Death was one of them. Except… Death wasn ’ t people. 
 
 ‘ I know what it ’ s like. ’ I said, with an understanding nod. ‘ I ’ m a stand-up comic but all I ’ ve ever wanted to be was serious once in a while. ’ 
 
 She ignored this. 
 
 ‘ I just feel… I just feel I could have been doing something else, if… if only I wasn ’ t Death, you know. ’ she, looking down at the floor. 
 
 ‘ Really? Like what? ’ 
 
 ‘ I don ’ t know. Anything, I guess. ’ She pointed at me. ‘ Stand-up comedy, maybe? ’ She pointed at a framed poster of Lenny Bruce on my wall. ‘ An interior decorator? ’ She held up her book. ‘ Maybe a literary critic. ’ 
 
 ‘ You ’ d make a lousy critic. ’ I said. 
 
 ‘ Why do you think so? ’ she asked curtly. 
 
 ‘ Because you ’ re too passionate about what you ’ re reading. There ’ s no critical analysis. You ’ ll just love a book or hate it. ’ 
 
 ‘ That ’ s not true. ’ she said. I sensed her tone to be half-hearted. 
 
 ‘ Well, then let me tell you what happens to Jon in the fifth book. ’ 
 
 ’ NO. ’ she shouted. 
 
 ‘ See, towards the end of Book Five, Jon and his mates— ‘ 
 
 ’ STOP. ’ 
 
 She had gotten up. Her eyes were wide in anger. The book in her left hand. Her index finger in it, acting as bookmark. 
 
 ‘ If you say one more word, you ’ ll have to go. ’ 
 
 I laughed. 
 
 ‘ I think you said I can take my time. And besides — ’ I thought I ’ ll take in the expression on her face before I said it. ‘ You can ’ t make me go before my time. It ’ s why you brought your Game of Thrones here in the first place. ’ 
 
 I saw her open her mouth ever so slightly before closing it. She let out a heavy sigh. 
 
 ‘ Don ’ t worry. I won ’ t spoil it for you. ’ 
 
 I blew my nose. She let a moment pass before proceeding to sit down again. I knew I had to take my chance when it was available. 
 
 ‘ But ’ I said firmly. She looked up. 
 
 ‘ If it ’ s the last thing I do, I ’ ll spoil Game of Thrones for you before I go. ’ I said. 
 
 ‘ No, you won ’ t. ’ 
 
 ‘ Oh I will. ’ I said triumphantly. ‘ If I ’ m going out, you ’ re going with me, Sister. ’ 
 
 She stood up abruptly and walked over to the side of my bed. I remained where I was, mortified. I had done it. I had ticked off the one person who held my life by it ’ s balls. Why? I thought frantically. Why did I have to play this card now? I stopped thinking. She was speaking again. 
 
 ‘ Let ’ s just say, ’ she said. ‘ No one ’ s going out today. I ’ ll keep my Game of Thrones and you can keep your life. Can we shake on that? ’ 
 
 I saw a pale white hand protrude out of her robe. It looked soft. For one mad moment, I felt we used the same moisturiser, but I realised this wasn ’ t the moment to ask. 
 
 ‘ Yes. ’ I said grasping her hand. ‘ We can shake on that. ’ 
 
 I let go of her hand as soon as possible. ‘ I don ’ t want you to catch a cold, ’ I said sheepishly. 
 
 There was no acknowledgement from her end. Just at that moment, I sneezed thrice, blew my nose and looked up. She wasn ’ t there. 
 
 Edit: Grammar
