For the first time in nearly a dozen millennia the primordial being known as Death, and often other things, didn’t get up to an alarm clock.

Instead, he rolled over and kicked off the blanket at his new summer home down by the lake. He remembered coming to reap the old man that lived there previously, and he had no family so Death didn’t think anyone would mind.

After he was unceremoniously let go he didn’t know what to do. He tried a retirement home, but he kept bumping into the other people and well it didn’t work out well.

Also, he detested shuffleboard.

So he remembered the cabin and has been there ever since, just puttering around like old men do. He rose from bed and looked at his robe in the corner. It’d been weeks since he’d worn it. Instead he chose a pair jeans and a Hawaiian shirt. It was time for a little color he thought.

He made breakfast, and hiked through the morning stopping to look at birds, and read under a tree.

He returned for lunch. He kicked up his feet in his recliner and took a nap while watching Netflix.

In the early afternoon he hungered again and walked down to the dock with his fishing pole. He untied a rowboat from the dock and pushed off into the lake.

He rowed until he neared the center of the water. His cast his lure and set his pole down and waited.

And waited.

And the primordial being often called Death started to think.

And think.

He thought about his old life and about how much he wanted to return. He wished he hadn’t been cast out like he was.

For a moment, just a moment, he thought about doing something about it. He was Death after all. He could take it all back if he wanted. To wreak havoc and become the Reaper once again.

But, it was a nice day at the lake, and those thoughts subsided.

He was getting hungry though, so he looked around to make sure no one was around. Once he was sure he was alone he dipped a single finger into the water and half dozen fish rose to the surface.

It pays to be Death sometimes, he thought and rowed back to the dock.