…”When it comes to the end of life you have to have something to call your own,” Bill slipped his arm through mine.
The soft twill of his well pressed jacket warmed my bare flesh.
“Something you’ve come up with yourself,” Bill’s friend did likewise and we started to pace the white tiled floor of my room in step.
“Something you’d like to keep but would like even more to give to the world, while at the same time denying that it has anything to do with you,” said Bill.
“When Death settles upon your shoulders, folds her wings around your body and rests her fore paws on the crown of your head,” put in Bill’s friend.
“It’s as well to have something to say for yourself,” continued Bill.
“A grand idea to engage her thoughts,” said Bill’s friend.
“A sublime notion to temper her plans for you,” said Bill.
“A beautiful lie to charm her soul,” said Bill’s friend.
“A ridiculous gesture…” I ventured tentatively, “to tickle her fancy?”
Bill shook his head.
Bill’s friend smiled, “Death and Soul are in league with each other.”
“They’re twinned,” said Bill.
“They’re practically indistinguishable,” said Bill’s friend.
“They even sound similar when they speak,” they said together and then they started laughing.
“They’re both after memories, that’s all,” said Bill, “Death wants to satisfy Life with them,”
“…Soul, Love…” finished Bill’s friend,” it’s as simple and… ”
“…as straightforward as that,” finished Bill.
“There’s no mystery to it,” said Bill’s friend.
“It’s just a passion they hold for each other,” said Bill…
We started moving towards the door…
“Memory,” continued Bill, “possesses the key to Divinity… ”
Continue reading at Stuart France