Tansy Undercrypt
Author, Illustrator, Purveyor of Doom & Whimsy


March 6th 2018 in Microfiction

“I’m giving my notice,” Death said, pushing a piece of parchment across the angel’s desk. “Uh … okay,” the angel replied, surprised, “but … you’re Death. I … um … I’m not entirely sure Death can resign.” “I know that I’ve been here for a long time,” Death said, nodding, “but I haven’t been here for ALL time, so I know it’s possible to move on and give somebody else a chance to contribute.” “Well … um,” the angel responded, “… that … that sounds good. I’ll have to talk to Management about a transition plan – getting someone to fill in or take over.” “Of course,” Death said, satisfied. “So, what’s next?” the angel asked, intrigued. “Vengeance, I think,” Death mused, its mind full of possibilities. “I’m sick of how animals are treated; that’ll be my primary focus – making a difference there.” “Wow,” the angel said, impressed. “Great.” “May I keep the scythe?” Death asked, curious. “Probably not,” the angel answered honestly (resisting the urge to shudder).

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The first crow appeared in the yard, followed by a second and a third. A fourth. A fifth. More. Still more. Crows everywhere, squawking loudly as they touched down, arrogant in their numbers. Peter and Sonja watched, standing far back from the picture window. “They’re punch drunk from landing,” Peter whispered, staring straight ahead. “Exhausted […]

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He had been to see the captain twice and was dismissed each time. He had gone to the command center to find more of the lead crew with similar results. “I knew it was a long shot,” James whispered to himself in the corridor, staring out at the stars, “but I’m surprised I couldn’t find […]

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