For the first time, Death realized she was done. Really. Out of work. No place to go. Nothing to do.
She called the Holy Spirit.
“Thank you for coming,” she told the Holy Spirit. “I’m not sure why I’m so sad. I hated my job of collecting souls.”
“Yeah. I’m sorry,” the Holy Spirit said as the universe spun around them and the nearest star blinked to remove an eyelash.
They stood quietly, with only the pulse of a long-lost Hubble Space Station struggling to find itself and sighing in the darkness. Death sat down and broke down. She hated to show her soft spots, even though the Holy Spirit knew her almost as well as she knew herself. He waited respectfully while she tried to get control again.
“What can I do?” the Holy Spirit asked, offering a handkerchief that appeared magically. He dabbed at Death’s beautiful eyes and noted that her makeup did not smear a smidge. Of course not because Death is a celestial being with all the powers, but no authority, and now, no job.
She said, “I don’t know if you can do anything. I think I’m on my own, as usual. I’ll figure out something.”
Indeed she does. Check out Kathryn Atkins’s novel Deathlist to find out what Death does. Here’s the Deathlist book trailer.