Photo by Aris Sfakianakis on Unsplash
The click of metal on the tile floor roused Beverly. “Who’s there?” she croaked into the night-darkened room.
“Just me, Miss Jackson,” a voice filled the darkness.
“Ah, come to take me to visit my Georgie.” The old woman turned her head. “You’re late,” she accused the worker.
“I am always on time.”
Beverly snapped back, “Well, I’ve been ready to go for ages. Today is the twelfth anniversary since he died. Tenth would have been better.”
“You wanted to see William graduate.” A cool boney hand smoothed her thin hair back. “Fought for it even, through great pain.”
“Yes, well. His father was an idiot and said he wouldn’t amount to nothing and someone had to be in his corner.” She harrumphed. “Can we go now? I’ve had enough of this great pain shit to last a lifetime.”
“Of course.” The reaper grasped her hand to help lift her up.
She shook the creature off. “I got it.” On her own, she managed to swing her feet around, sit up, and then pushed off the grab bar keeping her dead body on the bed, wobbling as she tried to get vertical. The reaper reached out to help. “I said I got this,” she snapped. “I just haven’t stood in a while.”
“Nearly four months.”
“Yes, well. That is what happens when you get old, but I don’t expect you to know it.”
“I assure you, I have met a lot of old people.”
“But you haven’t experienced it. I remember what it felt like to be young and getting upset with the old people hobbling on their arthritic hips, taking up half the sidewalk. ‘Get out of the way grannies,’ I would tell them. Served me right.” Beverly stood straight. “Now that is better.” She looked down at the body on the bed. “Can’t say I’m going miss you. You were a piece of crap.” Turning back to the reaper, she said, “Alright, let’s go.”
“Do you want to visit any relatives on the way out?”
“No. Them busy bodies have all been coming in droves, visiting every day since the nursing home tattled and said I refused to eat anymore and kept pulling out the IVs. I’ve seen them plenty.” The old spirit nodded her head. “Time for them to get back to their lives.”
“Well, I know George has been waiting a long time to see you again.” The reaper started walking toward a new door on the wall, its edges delineated by glowing white light.
“I expect so, since I cut off his heart meds to get him to die quicker. He likely found out about that after he died.”
Delighted in gossip, the reaper offered her an arm covered in loose black wool. “Did you now?”
“Yes, well, the kids were grown so he had taken to hitting me harder. Not often, mind, but enough to be annoying. You would think the idiot would know better than to hit the person who cooks for you, buys your meds, and makes your doctor’s appointments.”
“That does seem unwise.”
“Yes, well. I admit I didn’t marry Georgie for his brains.” Looking up at the skull-faced reaper, she asked, “Do I have to spend eternity with shit-for-brains?”
“No. Infinity doesn’t require anyone to provide someone else their expected paradise. What would you like?”
“Somewhere I can watch the great-grandbabies. William, little Stephanie, all of them. I don’t want to influence anything, just watch.”
“Infinity can definitely arrange that.” After the reaper opened the door so that Beverly could see the long corridor of light, it said, “I must ask. If you didn’t care much for your husband, Miss Jackson, why did you arrange to die around his birthday and death day.”
“Oh, that. Well, the family always expected me to be a loyal and good wife, working part-time to help out the family, support Georgie during his long decline. It is a good example to set for others The importance of family, you know.” She smiled. “Plus, it’s nice to be well thought of. Makes a good funeral. Trying to figure out a eulogy for Georgie took some doing.” Her smile turned mischievous. “But now that my reputation is sealed here, show me how I can have some real fun on this side.”
As the door closed behind them, a nursing home aide came through the more traditional door to wake Beverly with a breakfast he knew she would refuse. Discovering her dead body, he went to tell the front desk to call a doctor to confirm and get the paperwork ready for the family. There a nurse said, “Oh, she died the same day her husband died.” He responded. “That is true love, right there, that is.” To which she quipped, “Death always keeps its anniversaries.”
(words 799; first published 3/17/2026)