Tale of Death and The Lily of the Valley
Once there was a solitary woman, who lived in a cottage in the middle of a wood, she has decided long time ago to live far away from others, surrounded only by nature and quietness. She was an Artist and would spend the days painting and drawing enclosed in her cottage.
One day Death came to visit her in order to take her away, and before Death entered inside the cottage It though her life would be an easy life to take for the death knew she seemed to have nobody closer and care about nobody else, likewise her voluntary enclosure suggested it she was not enjoying life anymore. To its surprise, once Death entered into her chamber and saw her, Death felt a sharp prick in some tender inner part of its self, as if a sword had pierced its core. Death could not take her away that day; instead It withdrew to one of the empty corners of the chamber to watch her, while tried to understand that previous undiscovered feeling it had. Death watched her drawing spellbound by her performance always accompanied by a smile, when the night set in Death left the cottage and though to come back the very next day and take her away definitely.
The next day a resolute Death came to visit the woman again, however once it crossed the cottage’s entrance and saw the woman, for the second time, it felt the exactly same sharp prick as the day before, and paralyzed by the feeling Death decided to only watch her from the distance and placed in the same empty corner of the chamber as the day before. Death contemplated her while drawing and smiling once more and every so often it would saw her standing up; approaching to a window, scrutinizing the scenery and whispering something inaudible to the winds, always accompanied by a touching smile. When the night set in that day too Death left the cottage.
Over the days Death would visit the woman, would place in the corner and would watch her drawing; painting, smiling, scrutinizing the scenery and whispering to the winds and by the end of the day Death always left without her.
One day, after many, many days, Death did not place in the frequent chamber’s corner but close to the window and when the moment came and the woman approached to that window to observe the scenery and whispered, death came closer to her and its tender inner core was stirred by what Death heard, for a moment It turned its sigh to the painting the woman worked that day and felt how a sense of peacefulness and rapture filled its existence, thereupon Death extended its arms in the air and caught the already outstretched woman`s arms waiting to be caught and, like a choreography of a dancers romantic embrace, both; Death and woman blurred into the air.
Her whisper was “I am grateful to you, grateful to you for this life, this life you had permitted me to borrow and I, I had used it to leave a piece of me, of who I am, of what a think to this world after I am long gone, I have decided to give my life for my passion and leave this passion to the world and I have no remorse, today I have finished my last painting, the last of all, I am grateful to you for waiting me all this time and I am ready to be taken away from you, my dear Death.” And her last piece of art was the painting of the last and long embrace of herself and Death.
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