Learning How Not to Die
I’m on a rudderless ship with Father Time and Lady Death. There are no other passengers.
Father Time swings his scythe low and says, “Jump!”
I jump over the scythe. It’s like skipping rope.
Lady Death is lounging in a deck chair, her lips scarlet, wearing dark glasses and a red dress, an iced drink in one hand, a cigarette in the other. She smiles as I jump over Father Time’s scythe. She flicks the ash off her cigarette and the tip glows. I find it hard to keep my eyes off her.