Tell Me a Riddle

by johannespunkt

They say Death grants wishes right before you die. Well, Miriam Dunkirk had always been a smartass.

There was a chessboard between them, without any pieces.

Death was phosphor-eyed, and her teeth were too white. ”Well?” said Death.

Miriam expected something to happen to the chessboard, but it was ornamental. ”Well what?”

”What is your wish?”

”I’ve always wanted to outsmart death.”

”So tell me a riddle.”

Miriam’s tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. Time passed.

Death raised an eyebrow, bemused.

”What … have I got in my pocket?” And Miriam Dunkirk’s heart stopped.

”I don’t know,” said Death.

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