“You’re not what I expected.” 

Death smiled at Sarah across the Formica table. Death's long brunette hair framed her delicate face. A dimple under her left cheek made her chestnut eyes and pug nose seem more lively.

“I change form to suit the client.” 

Death caught the passing waitress’s eye. “More coffee, Darla, when you get the chance.” 

The dusky waitress nodded. Ghostly smoke tickled Sarah’s nose as she went to retrieve the coffee pot.

Death gestured towards the waitress. “Cancer, ten years ago.” 

“What is this place?” 

“A middle-ground. Purgatory, for lack of a better name. Time is short. You need to cut to the chase. You understand.” 

Sarah’s hazel eyes hardened, the way they did during important business meetings.

“I want my girlfriend back. The way Lori died…” Her eyes went misty. She dodged Death’s amiable gaze.

“I know. A plane crash. Died instantly.” 

A gut-wrenching sob broke from Sarah as Death’s gelid hands covered hers. 

“She didn’t feel any pain. Like I said, it was quick.” 

Sarah’s leaking eyes rose to meet Death’s. Her voice, feral-edged: “It wasn’t right. We were starting out. A new condo, looking into adopting a child.”

Death looked away as Sarah withdrew her hands. Was that a tear in her eye? Sarah couldn’t tell. 

“That cliché about life not being fair… there’s a reason for that. That’s not any reason to do what you did. If you want to join Lori, you will. But if you’re trying to pull an Orpheus-Eurydice stunt, it only works in literature, and even if it did work—” 

Darla, pouring coffee. Death smiled at her. “Thanks, Darla. I know you’re busy…” 

Darla’s face lit up as she chuckled. “Now, hon, don’t you tip me. You already tipped me once, and look where I ended up!” 

She was still chuckling as she walked away to help another customer in the packed diner, humming with chatter. 

Death, serious again. “Like I was saying… even if it did work, Orpheus lost her because he doubted, if only for a second. There’s always a catch in these deals. I’m only talking to you because suicide cases get a chance to reconsider their options.”

Sarah sniffled as tears streamed down her puffy face. She shook her head. “I’ve been having recurring dreams about our last morning together, the morning we argued about who ate the last of the Wheat Chex. She called me a ‘dizzy bitch’ before she stomped out of the condo to catch her flight… we could’ve spent the morning making love, or just enjoying each other’s company. But no. Our final memories will always be that ugly, hateful morning.”

Death watched as Sarah sobbed loudly. She wore a compassionate expression, a filmy mist in her eyes. 

“Please… I need her. I miss her touch, the way she kissed my neck when we spooned. She used to tickle me sometimes ­ I always said I hated it, but I really loved it. I miss going out with her, knowing that we were both being checked out by everyone… especially when they guessed that we were a couple. That got me so hot. Don’t think she didn’t know it.” A tiny smile on Sarah’s face as she remembered, wiping away her tears. 

“Here I am, trying to convince you to bring Lori back, and I’m talking about sex…”

Death’s smile grew. “Makes sense. It’s during sex ­ acted upon or imagined ­ that your emotions are at an apex. I was that way.” 

“You were human?” Sarah, jarred.

“A long time ago.” Death’s pretty eyes briefly glazed with unspoken memories before they focused on Sarah. Sarah’s loins stirred under that friendly chestnut warmth. Embarassed, she took a sip of her cooling black coffee. 

“I’m just an agent, Sarah. All the customers in here have a client-case worker relationship. It’s sad how many people don’t realise what they got.” 

Sarah, chastised by the bad timing of her desire, was silent.

“You have to make a choice now. Join your lover in death, or go on with your life. You can still work it, Sarah. It’ll be hard, but you’re strong enough. In time, you may even meet somebody ­ somebody Lori would approve of.”

After a few moments, Sarah’s eyes locked with Death’s. Death smiled as she got up, her black tee and jeans loose on her lean body.

“I’ll get the check. You made a good choice.” 

Death surprised her by kissing her cheek. Her lips, cold as the dawn-pierced Lethe, sent a shiver down Sarah’s spine. She blacked out. 

Seconds later, Sarah’s eyes fluttered open. The unexpected hospital lights were harsh, blinding. The sucking tube that ran down her throat nearly choked her. Sarah was tempted to laugh at the irony, but that didn’t seem wise at the moment.

As the doctors moved around her, a familiar ache filled her. She closed her eyes, and let the tears run.

Copyright © 2002 Nikki Isaak. All Rights Reserved. May not be re-printed in any form without express written consent of the author. Do not copy or post.