discovered. However, there is the
occasional opportunity to stave off the result of the judgment of
our days as mortals. At least, that is, until we decide it’s time
to walk through that door.”
Brigit watched as John lifted his cup and
sipped carefully, as if the steaming contents might actually harm
him. When he set the cup back to its saucer, Brigit identified it
as tea.
“I thought judgment of our lives would be one
specific day – like some massive cult ceremony,” Brigit said as she
finally reached for the coffee. John sighed and shook his head.
“Again, another rumor,” he revealed. “We were
being held in judgment from the very first moment we drew breath.
Unfortunately, it is taught almost world wide that there will be a
specific judgment day and most of those who believe that think that
they always have time to balance the books before they die. They
are unaware that every second counts and an abrupt about-face at
the eleventh hour does little to help the end result.”
“And what about those who have tried to be
good their whole life yet their choice for love is considered the
worst sin of all?” Brigit asked after the sip of coffee she had
taken had slid warmly down her throat. She was suddenly aware of
how much she had missed her morning coffee.
“Is love a sin?”
“It depends on who you share it with,
according to majority’s thought,” Brigit answered.
“Indeed? Who, may I ask, is harmed by the
love shared privately between two people?”
“Only those who aren’t involved in that love,
I think,” Brigit joked. “Or those who might be jealous of it.”
“Ah, I see. Well, you know, jealousy is a
sin. Love, however, is not,” John sighed. He reached for his tea
cup again. “Now, to the business we really need to discuss.”
“Go ahead,” Brigit encouraged. She was
finding herself a little more relaxed in John Blackwick’s company.
He seemed to have answers to her questions. She wondered if he
would have a true answer to the biggest question of her new
existence.
“I have an opportunity that I hope you will
seriously consider,” John began. “I have a position within my firm
that needs immediate filling. The work load has piled up and
without assistance; I see no end to the work if I continue to do it
by myself.” John paused and smiled as if he had made a joke only he
had caught. “Actually, there will never be an end to the work load,
but right now, it’s quite a chore.”
“ Your firm ?” Brigit asked as she
raised her coffee cup to drink. “What kind of position?”
“I would like to offer you the position of Assistant Reaper .”
Brigit covered her mouth to keep from spewing
her coffee across the counter. Quickly she swallowed and looked at
her companion in a mixture of surprised amusement and confusion.
The business card he had given her had read: Reapers, Inc. She had
conjured an idea as she passed through the night watching Maggie as
to what that title might have meant; but now that idea was
beginning to take a firm shape.
“Reaper? As in ‘the Grim Reaper’?”
“As in,” John replied seriously.
“Aren’t you missing something?” Brigit asked,
trying to keep herself from laughing hysterically at the images
running wildly through her head.
“I don’t know what you mean,” John revealed
as he searched her face for the source of her amusement.
“You’re The Grim Reaper ?” Brigit
pressed. “Where’s the black robe and the scythe? And aren’t you
supposed to be a skeleton or something?” Brigit was laughing by
now, bordering hysterically. John watched her for a moment before
allowing himself to see the amusement of her point. The images she
described had belonged to Araxius, his mentor. The scythe was
stored securely in the arsenal room at the office. John knew it
would most likely never be used again. When she finally composed
herself, she leveled her dark eyes on him and asked: “Why me?”
“Because love,” he began, “you’re
occasional opportunity to stave off the result of the judgment of
our days as mortals. At least, that is, until we decide it’s time
to walk through that door.”
Brigit watched as John lifted his cup and
sipped carefully, as if the steaming contents might actually harm
him. When he set the cup back to its saucer, Brigit identified it
as tea.
“I thought judgment of our lives would be one
specific day – like some massive cult ceremony,” Brigit said as she
finally reached for the coffee. John sighed and shook his head.
“Again, another rumor,” he revealed. “We were
being held in judgment from the very first moment we drew breath.
Unfortunately, it is taught almost world wide that there will be a
specific judgment day and most of those who believe that think that
they always have time to balance the books before they die. They
are unaware that every second counts and an abrupt about-face at
the eleventh hour does little to help the end result.”
“And what about those who have tried to be
good their whole life yet their choice for love is considered the
worst sin of all?” Brigit asked after the sip of coffee she had
taken had slid warmly down her throat. She was suddenly aware of
how much she had missed her morning coffee.
“Is love a sin?”
“It depends on who you share it with,
according to majority’s thought,” Brigit answered.
“Indeed? Who, may I ask, is harmed by the
love shared privately between two people?”
“Only those who aren’t involved in that love,
I think,” Brigit joked. “Or those who might be jealous of it.”
“Ah, I see. Well, you know, jealousy is a
sin. Love, however, is not,” John sighed. He reached for his tea
cup again. “Now, to the business we really need to discuss.”
“Go ahead,” Brigit encouraged. She was
finding herself a little more relaxed in John Blackwick’s company.
He seemed to have answers to her questions. She wondered if he
would have a true answer to the biggest question of her new
existence.
“I have an opportunity that I hope you will
seriously consider,” John began. “I have a position within my firm
that needs immediate filling. The work load has piled up and
without assistance; I see no end to the work if I continue to do it
by myself.” John paused and smiled as if he had made a joke only he
had caught. “Actually, there will never be an end to the work load,
but right now, it’s quite a chore.”
“ Your firm ?” Brigit asked as she
raised her coffee cup to drink. “What kind of position?”
“I would like to offer you the position of Assistant Reaper .”
Brigit covered her mouth to keep from spewing
her coffee across the counter. Quickly she swallowed and looked at
her companion in a mixture of surprised amusement and confusion.
The business card he had given her had read: Reapers, Inc. She had
conjured an idea as she passed through the night watching Maggie as
to what that title might have meant; but now that idea was
beginning to take a firm shape.
“Reaper? As in ‘the Grim Reaper’?”
“As in,” John replied seriously.
“Aren’t you missing something?” Brigit asked,
trying to keep herself from laughing hysterically at the images
running wildly through her head.
“I don’t know what you mean,” John revealed
as he searched her face for the source of her amusement.
“You’re The Grim Reaper ?” Brigit
pressed. “Where’s the black robe and the scythe? And aren’t you
supposed to be a skeleton or something?” Brigit was laughing by
now, bordering hysterically. John watched her for a moment before
allowing himself to see the amusement of her point. The images she
described had belonged to Araxius, his mentor. The scythe was
stored securely in the arsenal room at the office. John knew it
would most likely never be used again. When she finally composed
herself, she leveled her dark eyes on him and asked: “Why me?”
“Because love,” he began, “you’re
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