“And one day all of this will die?” I ask, lying back and looking at the sky, attempting to imagine its fickle mortality.
Years from now, when the sun supernova’s and the final remains of humanity scatter themselves across the stars, Death will reap the souls of millions. But that is in the future. Oh so far from now. And there is a little bumblebee stumbling onto a dandelion just a ways off, and patience has always been a virtue of immortals.
“Yes, eventually,” Death replies slowly, rolling a blade of grass between their fingers, “But isn’t it ever so beautiful?”
#FLASHFICTION101 JULY 2020 SHORTLISTED ENTRY
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