I pour some Bourbon between two lowballs and slide one across the table. Raising our glasses, we offer somber, acknowledging nods. I let him take the first sip and wait for his reaction.
“Tastes like Heaven, but it burns like Hell. I like it.” I tuck that away; Death likes it neat.
Getting comfortable, I light a cigar to build the ambience.
“Those things will kill you, you know?” says my macabre guest.
“If anyone knows it would be you.”
“Hardly. I merely pick up the mess.” Death takes another drink. He stares into his glass for a long time.
YOU ARE READING
This Heart Got Teeth
Short StoryDrabbles. Flash fiction. Shorts. One shots. Call them what you will. Conatined here are stories that come and go quickly, passing in barely the span of a blink. Catch them if you can.
