In the Memory of Mary

I was writing from home today when Death came into my room. I was startled.

Death said, “Don’t worry, I haven’t come for you.”

I said, “Oh. Okay, thanks…Then why are you here?”

Death said, “I’m looking for Mary Olsen. She lives in your building, but I can’t find in which unit. I was wondering if you could help me out and tell me where I would find her?”

I was silent. I like Mary. I didn’t want her to die.

Death said, “I know, you like her. I’m sure she’s pretty nice. But this is my job. If you don’t tell me, I’ll have to go back to my office to get her address and so you’re basically sparing her an extra hour. Is it really worth the effort?”

I said, “Yes.”

Death sighed. He said, “Alright.” He left.

I ran down to Mary’s unit and knocked on the door. She answered.

She said, “Hi, Brooks. What’s up?”

I said, “Oh my God, Mary, you’re not going to believe this, but, Death himself was just at my apartment and he’s looking for you, and I wouldn’t tell him, and he left to go get your exact address and then he’s coming back for you. So you’ve got to leave right now, quickly before he comes back!”

She laughed. She said, “That’s funny. You should put that in your blog.”