Now:
Death lowered himself into his favorite leather armchair and sighed; it had been a hard, long day. While looking around his hyper modern home he felt something was missing. Reaching out, he grasped a glass full of blood-red liquid and paused frowning.
A minute passed. Then another. Finally he started to slowly sip the wine from a crystal glass. All the while watching the view from the expansive floor to ceiling windows- not looking at anything in general. His dark black eyes slowly scanned the room passing over the bespoke kitchen cabinets, lime green sofa and armchairs, oak coffee table, antique Japanese dining area (fully laid) and numerous pieces of art.
Death liked his apartment: it was warm, comfortable and looked good. He liked his flat, he liked Osaka. It seemed Osaka liked him.
But lunch was Death’s favourite part of Osaka.
Death was not a cook but it was ‘homemade’ Katsu curry for lunch (it was homemade in the sense that is warmed up at home!). Still after all Death liked his ‘homemade’ katsu curry but you can not wear a suit when eating curry. But Death was hungry and while wearing his favourite navy suit with a pink tie he dug into the extremely saucy curry. Death devoured his curry while enjoying the taste simultaneously. Once he was done Death felt much better only until he noticed the curry stains down the front of his suit.
Piece by piece death changed out of his curry stained suit into a light blue knitted sweater and into a pair of torn skinny jeans. It was nice not to wear a suit for a change but you have to look good for a date at a stand up comedy night in the nearby Naniwanomiyaato Park (難波宮跡公園).
At the door Death slipped on a jacket, a red army replica greatcoat. Then he walked into the night
The comedy night was a laugh, literally. It was good quality comedy. For the most part Death had fun. He wandered through the crowd for no particular reason, he just liked the general satirical nature of the night. Eating an Onigiri he had brought with him, he watched everybody else enjoy themselves from the safety of a bench where he waited for his date. Within five minutes Death got bored and went to the nearby coffee truck and bought a matcha latte. An hour passed, than another.
Another cup of coffee and two hours later it was eleven pm- the crowd had dispersed, the comedy stuff was being packed up but Death was still waiting. His date had still not arrived.
It’s very frustrating isn’t it when you arrange something with someone and yet they still don’t turn up. That’s exactly the position Death was in. Being gay Death found it easier to date somebody now, but if your date is four hours late without and explanation- you have a reason to be stressed.
So Death went home and that was that.
It was less than a five minute walk to his apartment so he walked all the way. As he walked Death hummed the tune to ride of the valkyries, it was a good piece. Finally Death reached his domain, his fifth floor apartment.
Using his keys Death unlocked the door- how else was he supposed to do that?- and walked in.
He was just putting his keys down and hanging up his jacket when he heard something. Well it was than something, to be precise it was a crunching sound that ripped through the air, punctuating the calm night with noise. Anyway you get the don’t you? Good.
Death rushed to the window and looked out. At the present the view from said window was not at its best. Two cars along with a motorcycle lay slightly twisted and blackened in a sad heap. ‘A car crash’ thought Death. There hadn’t been a car crash since- well since he moved in around 1983. So he was obviously surprised and very shaken.
Trembling slightly Death closed the curtains on the window. Turning around he found an armchair and collapsed into it. Throughout his 3000 years or so of his long life, Death had done many things: he improved his flirting; learnt languages travelled all around the globe; partied; occasionally got drunk and lived and also fought in multiple major wars and conflicts. Even with all that experience Death was shaken was shaken by a ‘simple car’ crash.
It's difficult being immortal, Death wondered how he was still sane.
If one is for sure it is hard being Death.
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