“I think that tastes, odours, colours, etc., are nothing but mere names for something (that) resides exclusively in our sensitive body, so that if perceiving creatures were removed, all of these qualities would be annihilated and abolished from existence.” – Galileo Galilei

Death

The Woman called Death.

Wearing her white robe.

When I lowered the binoculars, she was visible as no more than a speck against the darkening sky.

When I peered back through the binoculars, the darkness behind her increased and intensified, like deep night, and I had the illusion that she was close enough for us to touch her.

How could I describe her? Were there words to convey the feelings she evoked in me? Having her right in front of me, near enough, not only to touch, but to feel, to embrace, to kiss?

That was what I wanted to do. The thing I most yearned for.

To kiss Death fully on her red lips. That mouth, like a bright flower on a pale desert floor.

And those eyes!

Those dark, dark, infinitely deep dark and mysterious eyes!

Death, Part II

Death looked me in the eyes. As if, to her, I also appeared close.

And then, she lifted a hand and beckoned me to join her on the Far Side.

There was no way I could refuse such an invitation. I had to accept it, even if it spelt my doom.

When I put down the binoculars, she was a little white dot, a speck of light against the belly of the gathering clouds. I took off my bag of goodies, and put the binoculars inside. Now, I had both hands free.

I wished I had thought of bringing along a torch. One of those head torches miners use, as I reckoned I was going to need both hands to work my way through the heavy undergrowth that barred passage to the Far Side.

Death had looked at me with those dark, dark eyes, almost daring me, almost laughing, with a hint of the friendly playfulness of a girlfriend, my very own girlfriend, the one person I would surely kiss, I would HAVE to kiss, if not now, on the last Friday of my life, when I reached the end of my days, when the last Friday finally succumbed to nothingness…

There was a secret there, a secret I had to discover at all costs…

And in order to discover what that secret was, I would have to befriend this Woman called Death.

I would have to talk to her. I might have to follow her.

I might even kiss her…

I might indeed…

Kiss…

Her…

Death – the End

I started walking towards her.

She became larger. I started seeing her the way I saw her through the binoculars. I could make out the folds of her white dress, her bare feet, her hands.

As I got closer to Death, however, two things happened.

Her face was no longer visible. She had covered it with her hair. She appeared to be ignoring me, looking the other way, looking out to sea.

The second thing that happened was that God started growling. Then refused to accompany me any further towards the Dark Side.

No amount of begging, pushing or pulling could persuade him to follow me through the undergrowth.

I was forced to continue without him.

It felt strange to approach this momentous moment without God by my side.

It was with mixed feelings that I finally emerged into an opening.

Death was now right before me.

I could still not see her face.

But I still wanted to kiss her. That beautiful jet-black hair… Those white, white limbs… those perfect feet…

I took three long steps right up to her.

Instantly, her head turned, her hair parted, and she looked at me.

I froze with fear.

Gone were the soft cheeks I had seen through the binoculars.

Gone were the luscious red lips, the penetrating dark eyes.

She no longer had a face.

I was staring straight into the empty sockets of a human skull, framed by straight black hair.

Death – the Beginning

The illusion only lasted for a moment.

Then, her face reappeared.

Had I seen it, or not?

I wasn’t sure.

Somewhere far behind me, God was still growling. Had he seen it too?

“Do you still want to kiss me?” the woman with the beautiful face asked.

“I… I never wanted to kiss you!” I blabbed, nervously, taking a step backwards, and tripping over a root in the undergrowth.

I fell back on a patch of dry leaves and sat up again as fast as I could.

For a moment, I looked to see where I had landed.

Then I looked back at her.

I couldn’t believe what I saw.

The woman with the beautiful face was melting.

Like a figure in a painting by Salvador Dali.

How did I know who Salvador Dali was?

She melted, and melted, until only her face remained.

Then, only the eyes and the mouth.

Behind me, God had started to whimper.

Fear was everywhere.

Fear, and the presence of Death.

“Do you know who I am?” she asked.

(Or, should I say, the mouth asked.)

“Yes,” I replied.

“I am Death. I don’t want to kiss you, either. Well, at least not yet.”

There was a strange expression in her eyes. A new expression. No longer seductive, but friendly. Had she been seductive before? She was looking at me with fondness, like a beloved sister.

“One day, we will kiss,” she said. “One day, when I am ready to take you. But that time is still in the future. In the meantime…”

Now the eyes were fading too.

“I just want to live on this island with you and your friends. I want to be your constant companion. I want to watch over you and make sure you fulfil your destiny,” Death said.

My lips were dry.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

Now, only the mouth remained.

“Today is the beginning of your destiny,” the mouth said, before disappearing like the rest of her. “The first Friday of the rest of your life. Go, and live it.”

And then, with a tiny little ‘popping’ sound, like two lips smacking together, the whole mirage vanished.

That was when God started barking, and ran right past me to where Death had been standing, but there was nothing left to bark at. DM