Tansy Undercrypt
Author, Illustrator, Purveyor of Doom & Whimsy


December 6th 2017 in Microfiction

Catherine “Cookie” Dorner was all dolled up and ready to leave when Death arrived. She sat on the edge of the bed, her remaining hairs piled high up top (you can take the girl outta Texas, but you can’t take the Texas outta the girl), her eyebrows penciled in carefully, and her Rose Jamboree lipstick liberally applied. “Well, hello,” Death said, taking it all in. “I’m good to go,” Cookie said, giving him a wink. “I see that,” he answered, smiling. “Most … aren’t. Most … tend to want to linger here.” “Not me,” Cookie verified, swiping left in midair with her right hand. “Been here. Done this. Next.” Death stepped forward. “No accounts to settle? No goodbyes that need to happen?” “Done what I could in that department,” Cookie reported. “Besides, I think a person should look forward and not back.” “You’re … looking forward to moving on?” Death asked, marveling. “Heck, yeah!” Cookie beamed. “I cannot TELL you how much I want to meet Jim Nabors!” “Ah,” Death said, extending its hand.

(In memory of Jim Nabors)

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