The Gift of Death **REVISED**

         Harold Thomas was an old, grief stricken man of 87. Each day life was becoming a vague dream and death a more vivid reality. Immortality is a dream for most people; for him, a nightmare. Everyday he wishes that death would reach out his ice cold, boney fingers and pluck him from earth. His age was never the root of his depression; it was that he was totally alone. He only had one love in life, his wife, Emily. Their marriage lasted 65 years until Emily passed away. But it was his fault. He had been cheating on Emily for 60 years with the same woman.

         Five years ago, Harold and Emily were sitting in their den, reading and enjoying eachothers company. There was a knock at the door. Emily told her husband, “I’ll get it, hun!” She opened the door and a tall, elderly woman, attractive for her age, rushed into the house. “Harrold! I’ve been waiting for you to come over so you can keep me company!”

         Harold stared at the woman with shock on his face. He looked at Emily who demanded to know how long this has been going on. When Arnold told his wife, she had a massive heart attack and died there on the den floor. It was his fault she was dead. It was his fault that he was alone. Now, with his old age well set in, he wished to meet death.

         He wandered the empty halls of his home and ventured to his bedroom; hoping that death would take him that night. He slipped into a deep slumber, and dreamt of Emily and the good times that they shared over the years as well as his betrayal.

         As he slept, the walls around him shook. Pictures fell from the walls and glass broke on the floor. He woke in fright, but his fear turned to joy when he saw a dark spector at the foot of his bed. The grim reaper stood there with his hand out, waiting to take him. Death had finally come for him.

         “What a joyous occasion! Where have you been? I’ve been waiting for you!” Death backed away, retracting his hand in surprise. This man actually greeted him with warmth. This had never happened to The Reaper before. No one had ever been so warm to him.

         The old man jumped out of bed with the agility of a young boy. “Let me just take a few things. Some pictures of my wife, and children. Prized family possessions. I’ll be only a second!” Death was appalled by the old man’s behavior. He didn’t know what to do or how to react. Death was actually scared of death. He was scared of this elderly man.

         As the old man stood in front of Death, beaming from ear to ear, awaited their departure. Death turned around, and the old man jumped with such joy, he could barely contain himself. In a harsh, spooky voice, Death whispered, “I come here to bring you to your ultimate end, and you welcome me? No one has ever welcomed me. Such a person like you doesn’t deserve death. I leave you now.” And before the old man could reach out for him, to touch him and go with him, The Reaper vanished into a cloud of black smoke. So there he was. Alone again. Without his love. Without death. Except for now, it was forever.

Be careful what you wish for; you might just get it.