My Conversation With Death

For the past two years, he has steadfastly remained at my side. I hope I did not offend when I told him he had come too late.

“I died many years ago,” I said playing with the handkerchief I held in my hand.

He looked at me, and put a smirk on his face,

“Yes, I know.  I hear your silence.  I cannot kill, what is already dead.”

“So why do you stay?”

“To keep you company.”

Our silence, once again, returned.