Instalment One Hundred and Three


Death protects the living.

Death was tired, he slaved away every day and not one single soul was grateful. No one saw the good he was doing, they all cursed him.

So he appeared for a day.

“I will take this man’s life now,” he said standing at the wreck of a speeding car, “No longer will he have the opportunity to kill others.”

“I will take this woman’s life now,” he announced by the bed of a contagious woman, “No others will become ill.”

He let a fox kill a rabbit so fox cubs may eat. Latter he killed the fox so the corpse may provide food for maggots and worms, their waste enriching the soil. The soil growing life for food and air.

“I do this for all living things,” cried Death to the world, “You do not see my good work?”

“You take people we love,” the world cried back, “Victimise the weak. Starve the poor.”

“I take the old to save families more grief. My famines keep the world liveable for the rest, as do your wars. Greed makes you fat and I weed the greedy. Death helps life survive. Don’t blame me, blame each other.” 

And he was gone.

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