Michael Reyneke : Writer

I am a writer; my hobby is photography

She Dared To Live

‘The wind, the wind is blowing.’

Samantha staggers to her grave and collapses. “I must be the only ghost that staggers and collapses.” She turns to rest her back against the crumbling stone. “He told me to wait, so I wait.” She looks around this forsaken corner; no one visits here. Roots and vines play on the headstones while rotting leaves give off ammonia.

At the far corner, she sees the light. At last, He comes.

With a deformed hand, she touches the vegetation on her headstone. The green creepers and brown roots wither and die to reveal the inscription “Sam Dared to Live”. Below the dates are May 1924 – Jan 1940.

“Why did they not put a day in May and why not a day in January. Do I count for nothing?”

‘Through the graves, the wind is blowing.’

She twists to watch the approaching apparition carrying a lantern. The light fades and brightens. She shudders and tumbles across her grave and waits for Him to come closer.

“Freedom will soon come, Samantha.” She feels His words move through her.

“Who are you and why do you dress like that?” she shivers. “And what’s with the scythe?”

“I am Death,” he breaths over her shriveled ghost lying across the grave. He shrugs, “I have to look the part.”

“That’s silly.”

“Do you know why I’m here?”

“No. I’m sure you’ll tell me.”

“Your ghost has walked, no staggered and stumbled, the earth long enough. Today, I took the last person who knew you. Your ghost goes back to the grave to be content and happy. Your body will find a new life. Live it well.”

“It’s about time, Death. What took you so long?”

Samantha gives up body and ghost without a whimper.

‘Then we’ll come from the shadows.’