Death, Tea, And Embroidery

The gray-haired crone with icy blue eyes looked up from her needlework as the child with long blonde braids approached.

“Is it finished yet?” The girl asked.

The woman looked up from her task. “Oh, my dear, not yet, but getting close. Sit with me. Would you like some tea?”

A chair appeared, just her size, and the girl sat. A table with tea and sandwiches appeared. The girl took a cucumber sandwich and a cream puff. The tea was hot and strong.

The old woman held up her work to the light. It was an embroidered piece: a girl with blonde braids. Only halfway finished.

“Some day I won’t wake up again, will I?”

The crone nodded.

“But you’ll be happy because I’ll be with you, right?”

Death, as the old crone, shook her head. “You need to be with your loved ones as long as possible.”

Another bite of sandwich. The child closed her eyes, and woke up, panting, as her heart kicked back on.

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