Page 19 - Edit 1

He sighed. “If you’re not going to meet again, she vanished. She
answer, we could be here for a while.” was happy to wait.

“Then tell me about your life.” The young man’s parents didn’t
know how long they’d spent
His childhood. His parents. A little in this room. As they stepped
brother he always quarrelled with, across the threshold, the mother
but loved all the same. She listened let out a cry and the father’s
with patient interest; he was mouth opened. Their son had
intriguing, in his way.
turned his head to look at them.
She came back the following
morning. He’d been waiting for her.
She listened again to the story of his
life. They even laughed together.

Strange as it might seem, Death
became attached. Maybe her human
appearance had clouded her mind.
The young man, on the hand, was just
glad to have someone to talk to.

After another few days of
conversation, he asked, “Can I kiss
you?”

She sat beside him, her eyes on his.
Then, without a word, she leaned in
close.

Death stopped before their lips
touched. She knew what that
kiss would mean; she knew how
important it would be. No one
touched her without paying the L’ Amort,
price. The beauty of the moment
didn’t matter. Laure Thibault

She watched him. This young man,
she told herself, had proven how translated by J. Appleby
alive he was. Knowing that they’d
28.