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Description
Smitty found himself in an odd place, or at least it was odd considering where he had been moments before. He was standing in an office, whereas he had been standing on a crowded street. This change of surroundings puzzled him a great deal. What also puzzled him was the nature of the office that he was in. It was a well-lit room with a desk, a chair in front of that desk, and posters of different animals on all the walls. The whole set-up reminded Smitty of a travel agency, though the animal posters were an obvious departure from the norm.

"He... hello?" he asked, looking around to see if there was anyone there.

There was the sound of a door opening. Smitty turned around. A middle-aged man, dressed in a nice suit, was entering the room. He had a head of blond hair and a happy expression on his face. Smitty stepped back as the newcomer shut the door and turned towards him.

"Ah, here you are again," the other man said, holding out a hand. "You're one of the ones I've always liked seeing."

Smitty was quite confused by all this. He did not remember having ever met anyone like this man before. Nevertheless, he did return the handshake. Smitty was nothing if not a very polite man. "I beg your pardon," he said. "But I can't seem to recall who you are."

"That's quite all right," the man in the suit said, a smile still on his face. "It's rather impossible for you to remember me."

Smitty frowned, still somewhat unsure of what was going on. "Just who are you then?" he asked, letting go of the other man's hand.

"Death."

Smitty paused. A creeping sensation traveled up the back of his neck and he swallowed down the lump of nervousness that was forming in his throat. Had he heard that right. "Death?"

The man nodded as he walked past Smitty. "The one and the only. I am Death, whom none can excel."

Smitty tried to calm himself down as Death sat behind the desk. He had no reason to doubt that this individual was indeed who he said he was. In fact, it seemed as though doubt was impossible, as if all things in this place were as true as true could be. Smitty tried to doubt anyway, tried to tell himself that maybe all of this was just a dream. But he could not. It was a humbling feeling.

"Please, sit down," Death said to Smitty, motioning to a chair. "Why stand when you can be seated?"

Smitty took up the offer, seating himself with trembling legs. "So... am I... have I really?"

Death nodded. "You are dead, Mister..." here he paused and looked at a folder on the desk. "Desmond Smith.But your friends call you Smitty. May I call you that?"

"Uh, yeah, sure," Smitty said, taking a deep breath.

Death smiled, a smile that put quite a bit of reassurance into Smitty's mind. "Thank you, Smitty." Hearing that familiar nickname helped even more to ease the poor man's nervousness.

Smitty nodded, taking a deep breath and relaxing himself somewhat. "Might I ask how I, erm, met my end?"

"Why not?" Death asked in return. He smiled and opened the folder. "It's a perfectly legitimate question. Let's see here. Ah, brain aneurysm. Blood vessel burst and, well, here you are."

Smitty nodded as he processed the information. It wasn't too implausible. His job, an assistant in the Ministry of Public Interest, had been quite a bit more stressful in the past few months. He had considered taking a leave of absence, but had never really acted on it. Well, as unfortunate as it was, it was much to late for that now.

"Can't say I'm all that... surprised," Smitty said, tapping his finger on his knee a little."

Death nodded. "Few are."

"Why is that?" Smitty asked, a bit of curiosity leaking through his nervousness.

"Why not?" Death asked, that smile still on his face. "After all, all things have consequences, and you don't have to be very smart to see the connections between the two. But don't worry. You've seen your end before, and passed through here just fine."

"What do you mean?" Smitty asked. "You keep saying that I've been here before. "Is this some kind of reincarnation thing?"

Death pointed at the man with a smile on his face. "Bingo, Smitty," he said. "That's the system. And I'd be glad of that if I were you. That time with Chelsea Bridges in university? That's intercourse outside of marriage right there. Heaven would frown on such things. If it existed, that is."

Smitty nodded his head, turning a little red at the mention of his carnal exploits from his youth. Yes, he had dodged a bullet there, hadn't he? "Well, thanks..." he said to Death.

Death held up his hand for Smitty to be quiet. "Don't thank me," he said. "I've got no say over this. It's just how the system is. All I do is my job within that system."

Smitty nodded. He looked over at Death for a moment, still somewhat in shock about all this. As he looked around the office, he noticed the conspicuous absence of something that he would have expected to be there.

"Where's your scythe?" he asked. After all, didn't Death always have a scythe?

Death paused, and a bit of his smile faded from his face. "I don't keep it out," he said. "You see, Smitty, I'm not a reaper but once in a very great while. I don't like it. When I have to use the scythe on a soul it means that soul leaves the system forever. That means there are a great many lives that might not happen. I prefer to just help souls passing through to their next life. There's a lot less guilt involved."

Smitty was quieted a little. "I'm sorry."

"It's all right," Death said, that little bit of smile returning to his face already. "In case you haven't noticed, this place is all about the truth. I'm just honoring that spirit of honesty."

Smitty nodded. "So, if you're not a reaper, then what are you?"

"A travel agent," Death said, holding out his hands to indicate the posters on the wall. "I'm here to help you book your destination for your next life."

This was new. "You mean, it's my choice?" Smitty asked. "Whatever I am in the next life, it's my decision?"

"Why not?" Death asked, sitting back in his chair and folding his hands in his lap. "Though, and you may have already guessed this, you aren't going to remember your former life. Things really don't work that way."

"So, why decide your next life if you aren't going to remember why you wanted it/" Smitty asked. The whole thing seemed rather odd to him, and somewhat pointless as well.

Death shrugged. "Don't know. I just do my job." He opened a drawer and pulled out a candy bar. He slid it across the desk to Smitty, who picked it up and began to unwrap it. "So, what's it going to be?"

"Beg your pardon?" Smitty asked as he began to eat the candy bar.

"What would you like to be in your next life?" Death asked. He took out some brochures and laid them out on the desk for Smitty to see. Dogs, penguins, snakes, cockroaches, animals of all kinds were advertised upon them.

"What if I just want to be a human again?" Smitty asked.

"No can do," Death said, shaking his head. "Gotta pick something else. World needs variety."

Smitty frowned for a moment as he looked at the brochures. There really shouldn't be any problem making this decision. After all, it wasn't like he was going to remember making it anyway. And yet, he still found that it was puzzling him. There were a great many possibilities there, and quite a few of them intrigued him greatly.

"I don't know," Smitty said at last.

Death looked a little puzzled at this. "You don't know?"

Smitty nodded. "I really don't know."

Death grinned. This was something that Smitty was aware should be scary. After all, it was Death grinning, his white teeth perfect between his lips. And yet, instead of being frightened by this, Smitty was merely intrigued.

"Tell me, Smitty," Death said. "How would you like to answer a riddle?"

Smitty paused. "A riddle?"

Death nodded. "A riddle. But not just any riddle. The secret to living well is tied up in this riddle. I have posed it to many souls passing through, but none yet have given me a satisfactory answer."

At this, Smitty balked a little."Well, I'm not really sure I could do any better than anyone else..."

"I'll throw in some incentive," Death added. "If you can give me a satisfactory answer, I will make it so that you keep your memories, forever and ever. You'll still die, of course. Not even I can change that. But you'll always remember being Desmond Smith. And, by proxy, you'll always be Desmond Smith."

Smitty was quiet at this. It was quite an offer that Death was giving him. "Why are you giving me this opportunity?"

"Why not?" Death asked. "You're a nice guy, Smitty. I've always liked the plucky simplicity your soul has shown when it passes through here. I'd like to see what kind of answer you can come up with."

This was of small comfort to Smitty. Still, he had to admit to himself that the offer was quite enticing. And what difference would it make if he wasn't able to come up with a good answer? It wasn't like he was going to be able to remember it anyway, if that were to happen.

"What's the riddle?" Smitty asked.

Death smiled. "Why did the chicken cross the road?"

This made Smitty pause. Based on death's description of the riddle, he had assumed it was some difficult philosophical conundrum. He had not been expecting something so mundane. Smitty opened his mouth, ready to give the first answer that popped into his head. But he stopped himself. That answer didn't feel quite right. There was no doubt in his mind, now that he thought about it, that that it had been given before and found unsatisfactory. Smitty tried to think of another answer. But nothing that came to his mind seemed good enough.

"Need time to think?" Death asked sincerely.

Smitty nodded. "It's a harder question than you would think."

"Indeed. In the meantime, lets look over your choices for your next life." Death picked up one of the brochures. "Personally, I think you ought to at least stay a mammal. You don't seem like the cold blooded or flighty type to me."

Smitty shrugged his shoulders. "If you say so." He was still thinking about the riddle that had been posed to him.

Death looked at the brochure a bit longer. "How does a racing horse in Kentucky sound?"

"Eh, too much work," Smitty remarked.

Death nodded and kept looking. "Leopard on the Serenghetti?"

"Hm. Maybe."

Death nodded again. "Let me ask you something else. What kind of animals did you like watching?"

Smitty thought about htis for a moment or two. "Sometimes, when my family would go up to Scotland, we could see dolphins from shore. They were fun to watch. They'd jump around in the water, playing and what not, looking like they were having great fun."

Death nodded and smiled at this. "Then I think your next life will be a dolphin off the coast of Scotland."

Smitty opened his mouth to give a reply, but stopped. He considered the answer he was about to give, and realized in that instant that it was also the answer to the riddle. It was simple, simple enough that it could escape the notice of those who were looking for an answer of some cosmic significance. What made Smitty so sure that it was the correct answer though, was that Death had already said it.

"Why not?" Smitty said to Death. "That's why the chicken crossed the road. Why not?"

Death paused. "Is that your answer to the riddle?"

Smitty nodded.

Death smiled. Then he began to laugh, a laugh chock-full of amusement and satisfaction. "For 5000 years I've been asking that riddle. Congratulations, Desmond Smith. You're the first to give me a good answer."

Smitty breathed a sigh of relief. He'd managed to do it. Still, there was something about it that he didn't quite understand. "So, how is that related to the secret to living well?"

Death grinned again. "Tell me. How did you know that was the answer I was looking for?"

"Well, you kept saying it, I guess."

"You paid attention," Death said as he sat back in his chair. "And that is the secret."

This really made Smitty pause. "That's it?"

"Why not? Why should it be some complicated thing? Paying attention gets you quite a few things, as you have just discovered." Death pointed to the door. "When you're ready, walk through that door and you'll go on to your new life. But you'll remember being Desmond Smith, and you'll remember me. And you'll never forget going from life to life from now on. You've earned it."

Smitty sat there for a bit without saying anything. He was at somewhat of a loss for what to do. Then, at last, he got up and held out his hand to death. "Thank you," he said. After all, he was nothing if not polite.

Death leaned forward and shook Smitty's hand. "I'll be seeing you again, Smitty. And I'll be looking forward to it."

This phrase, coming from one such as Death, should have been quite frightening or intimidating. But it was no such thing. Instead, it made Smitty smile a little. Then he turned and walked to the door. Taking a deep breath, he opened it and stepped through.

Death chuckled a little as the door shut on its own. "Good man," he remarked to no one in particular. Then he got another candy bar out of his desk and began to eat it, a satisfied smile on his face.

Description
Smitty found himself in an odd place, or at least it was odd considering where he had been moments before. He was standing in an office, whereas he had been standing on a crowded street. This change of surroundings puzzled him a great deal. What also puzzled him was the nature of the office that he was in. It was a well-lit room with a desk, a chair in front of that desk, and posters of different animals on all the walls. The whole set-up reminded Smitty of a travel agency, though the animal posters were an obvious departure from the norm.

"He... hello?" he asked, looking around to see if there was anyone there.

There was the sound of a door opening. Smitty turned around. A middle-aged man, dressed in a nice suit, was entering the room. He had a head of blond hair and a happy expression on his face. Smitty stepped back as the newcomer shut the door and turned towards him.

"Ah, here you are again," the other man said, holding out a hand. "You're one of the ones I've always liked seeing."

Smitty was quite confused by all this. He did not remember having ever met anyone like this man before. Nevertheless, he did return the handshake. Smitty was nothing if not a very polite man. "I beg your pardon," he said. "But I can't seem to recall who you are."

"That's quite all right," the man in the suit said, a smile still on his face. "It's rather impossible for you to remember me."

Smitty frowned, still somewhat unsure of what was going on. "Just who are you then?" he asked, letting go of the other man's hand.

"Death."

Smitty paused. A creeping sensation traveled up the back of his neck and he swallowed down the lump of nervousness that was forming in his throat. Had he heard that right. "Death?"

The man nodded as he walked past Smitty. "The one and the only. I am Death, whom none can excel."

Smitty tried to calm himself down as Death sat behind the desk. He had no reason to doubt that this individual was indeed who he said he was. In fact, it seemed as though doubt was impossible, as if all things in this place were as true as true could be. Smitty tried to doubt anyway, tried to tell himself that maybe all of this was just a dream. But he could not. It was a humbling feeling.

"Please, sit down," Death said to Smitty, motioning to a chair. "Why stand when you can be seated?"

Smitty took up the offer, seating himself with trembling legs. "So... am I... have I really?"

Death nodded. "You are dead, Mister..." here he paused and looked at a folder on the desk. "Desmond Smith.But your friends call you Smitty. May I call you that?"

"Uh, yeah, sure," Smitty said, taking a deep breath.

Death smiled, a smile that put quite a bit of reassurance into Smitty's mind. "Thank you, Smitty." Hearing that familiar nickname helped even more to ease the poor man's nervousness.

Smitty nodded, taking a deep breath and relaxing himself somewhat. "Might I ask how I, erm, met my end?"

"Why not?" Death asked in return. He smiled and opened the folder. "It's a perfectly legitimate question. Let's see here. Ah, brain aneurysm. Blood vessel burst and, well, here you are."

Smitty nodded as he processed the information. It wasn't too implausible. His job, an assistant in the Ministry of Public Interest, had been quite a bit more stressful in the past few months. He had considered taking a leave of absence, but had never really acted on it. Well, as unfortunate as it was, it was much to late for that now.

"Can't say I'm all that... surprised," Smitty said, tapping his finger on his knee a little."

Death nodded. "Few are."

"Why is that?" Smitty asked, a bit of curiosity leaking through his nervousness.

"Why not?" Death asked, that smile still on his face. "After all, all things have consequences, and you don't have to be very smart to see the connections between the two. But don't worry. You've seen your end before, and passed through here just fine."

"What do you mean?" Smitty asked. "You keep saying that I've been here before. "Is this some kind of reincarnation thing?"

Death pointed at the man with a smile on his face. "Bingo, Smitty," he said. "That's the system. And I'd be glad of that if I were you. That time with Chelsea Bridges in university? That's intercourse outside of marriage right there. Heaven would frown on such things. If it existed, that is."

Smitty nodded his head, turning a little red at the mention of his carnal exploits from his youth. Yes, he had dodged a bullet there, hadn't he? "Well, thanks..." he said to Death.

Death held up his hand for Smitty to be quiet. "Don't thank me," he said. "I've got no say over this. It's just how the system is. All I do is my job within that system."

Smitty nodded. He looked over at Death for a moment, still somewhat in shock about all this. As he looked around the office, he noticed the conspicuous absence of something that he would have expected to be there.

"Where's your scythe?" he asked. After all, didn't Death always have a scythe?

Death paused, and a bit of his smile faded from his face. "I don't keep it out," he said. "You see, Smitty, I'm not a reaper but once in a very great while. I don't like it. When I have to use the scythe on a soul it means that soul leaves the system forever. That means there are a great many lives that might not happen. I prefer to just help souls passing through to their next life. There's a lot less guilt involved."

Smitty was quieted a little. "I'm sorry."

"It's all right," Death said, that little bit of smile returning to his face already. "In case you haven't noticed, this place is all about the truth. I'm just honoring that spirit of honesty."

Smitty nodded. "So, if you're not a reaper, then what are you?"

"A travel agent," Death said, holding out his hands to indicate the posters on the wall. "I'm here to help you book your destination for your next life."

This was new. "You mean, it's my choice?" Smitty asked. "Whatever I am in the next life, it's my decision?"

"Why not?" Death asked, sitting back in his chair and folding his hands in his lap. "Though, and you may have already guessed this, you aren't going to remember your former life. Things really don't work that way."

"So, why decide your next life if you aren't going to remember why you wanted it/" Smitty asked. The whole thing seemed rather odd to him, and somewhat pointless as well.

Death shrugged. "Don't know. I just do my job." He opened a drawer and pulled out a candy bar. He slid it across the desk to Smitty, who picked it up and began to unwrap it. "So, what's it going to be?"

"Beg your pardon?" Smitty asked as he began to eat the candy bar.

"What would you like to be in your next life?" Death asked. He took out some brochures and laid them out on the desk for Smitty to see. Dogs, penguins, snakes, cockroaches, animals of all kinds were advertised upon them.

"What if I just want to be a human again?" Smitty asked.

"No can do," Death said, shaking his head. "Gotta pick something else. World needs variety."

Smitty frowned for a moment as he looked at the brochures. There really shouldn't be any problem making this decision. After all, it wasn't like he was going to remember making it anyway. And yet, he still found that it was puzzling him. There were a great many possibilities there, and quite a few of them intrigued him greatly.

"I don't know," Smitty said at last.

Death looked a little puzzled at this. "You don't know?"

Smitty nodded. "I really don't know."

Death grinned. This was something that Smitty was aware should be scary. After all, it was Death grinning, his white teeth perfect between his lips. And yet, instead of being frightened by this, Smitty was merely intrigued.

"Tell me, Smitty," Death said. "How would you like to answer a riddle?"

Smitty paused. "A riddle?"

Death nodded. "A riddle. But not just any riddle. The secret to living well is tied up in this riddle. I have posed it to many souls passing through, but none yet have given me a satisfactory answer."

At this, Smitty balked a little."Well, I'm not really sure I could do any better than anyone else..."

"I'll throw in some incentive," Death added. "If you can give me a satisfactory answer, I will make it so that you keep your memories, forever and ever. You'll still die, of course. Not even I can change that. But you'll always remember being Desmond Smith. And, by proxy, you'll always be Desmond Smith."

Smitty was quiet at this. It was quite an offer that Death was giving him. "Why are you giving me this opportunity?"

"Why not?" Death asked. "You're a nice guy, Smitty. I've always liked the plucky simplicity your soul has shown when it passes through here. I'd like to see what kind of answer you can come up with."

This was of small comfort to Smitty. Still, he had to admit to himself that the offer was quite enticing. And what difference would it make if he wasn't able to come up with a good answer? It wasn't like he was going to be able to remember it anyway, if that were to happen.

"What's the riddle?" Smitty asked.

Death smiled. "Why did the chicken cross the road?"

This made Smitty pause. Based on death's description of the riddle, he had assumed it was some difficult philosophical conundrum. He had not been expecting something so mundane. Smitty opened his mouth, ready to give the first answer that popped into his head. But he stopped himself. That answer didn't feel quite right. There was no doubt in his mind, now that he thought about it, that that it had been given before and found unsatisfactory. Smitty tried to think of another answer. But nothing that came to his mind seemed good enough.

"Need time to think?" Death asked sincerely.

Smitty nodded. "It's a harder question than you would think."

"Indeed. In the meantime, lets look over your choices for your next life." Death picked up one of the brochures. "Personally, I think you ought to at least stay a mammal. You don't seem like the cold blooded or flighty type to me."

Smitty shrugged his shoulders. "If you say so." He was still thinking about the riddle that had been posed to him.

Death looked at the brochure a bit longer. "How does a racing horse in Kentucky sound?"

"Eh, too much work," Smitty remarked.

Death nodded and kept looking. "Leopard on the Serenghetti?"

"Hm. Maybe."

Death nodded again. "Let me ask you something else. What kind of animals did you like watching?"

Smitty thought about htis for a moment or two. "Sometimes, when my family would go up to Scotland, we could see dolphins from shore. They were fun to watch. They'd jump around in the water, playing and what not, looking like they were having great fun."

Death nodded and smiled at this. "Then I think your next life will be a dolphin off the coast of Scotland."

Smitty opened his mouth to give a reply, but stopped. He considered the answer he was about to give, and realized in that instant that it was also the answer to the riddle. It was simple, simple enough that it could escape the notice of those who were looking for an answer of some cosmic significance. What made Smitty so sure that it was the correct answer though, was that Death had already said it.

"Why not?" Smitty said to Death. "That's why the chicken crossed the road. Why not?"

Death paused. "Is that your answer to the riddle?"

Smitty nodded.

Death smiled. Then he began to laugh, a laugh chock-full of amusement and satisfaction. "For 5000 years I've been asking that riddle. Congratulations, Desmond Smith. You're the first to give me a good answer."

Smitty breathed a sigh of relief. He'd managed to do it. Still, there was something about it that he didn't quite understand. "So, how is that related to the secret to living well?"

Death grinned again. "Tell me. How did you know that was the answer I was looking for?"

"Well, you kept saying it, I guess."

"You paid attention," Death said as he sat back in his chair. "And that is the secret."

This really made Smitty pause. "That's it?"

"Why not? Why should it be some complicated thing? Paying attention gets you quite a few things, as you have just discovered." Death pointed to the door. "When you're ready, walk through that door and you'll go on to your new life. But you'll remember being Desmond Smith, and you'll remember me. And you'll never forget going from life to life from now on. You've earned it."

Smitty sat there for a bit without saying anything. He was at somewhat of a loss for what to do. Then, at last, he got up and held out his hand to death. "Thank you," he said. After all, he was nothing if not polite.

Death leaned forward and shook Smitty's hand. "I'll be seeing you again, Smitty. And I'll be looking forward to it."

This phrase, coming from one such as Death, should have been quite frightening or intimidating. But it was no such thing. Instead, it made Smitty smile a little. Then he turned and walked to the door. Taking a deep breath, he opened it and stepped through.

Death chuckled a little as the door shut on its own. "Good man," he remarked to no one in particular. Then he got another candy bar out of his desk and began to eat it, a satisfied smile on his face.