Under The Lake

under the lake photo

Every day is just about the same for me. Wake up, brush my teeth, wash my face, grab an apple and walk straight into that 300-foot deep lake outside.

I work under the surface – well, when I say under, I mean on the other side. There’s plenty of other people that come too, it’s part of life for us. We work for Death, writing reports on certain people that are assigned to us, then calculating their life expectancy. Death has less on his plate because of us, so all he needs to do is fix his schedule.

Everything we do, think and feel is written on our bodies as soon as we pass through the portal. When we resurface, the writing disappears. Death pays us quite a fair salary each week, so life is sweet. There’s just one catch: whenever I start work, my skin is empty.

Death doesn’t favour me as much as the others, even though my wages are the same. There was another one like me, but she died sometime before I started. They call us Outsiders, which is pretty rude, but I don’t care.

I was always empty-skinned until that one day when my life seemed to change forever. I went through the same morning routine: brush teeth, wash face, eat apple, walk into lake. I just didn’t know that under the lake, it would be different.

The first few steps in are through the water barrier, then we should arrive on the other side. This time around, though, the journey seemed longer, and as I delved deeper and deeper, I could make out the distinctive shape of a person in the distance, a man, tall and skinny. He gradually came closer and closer, until I could see his face. It was Death himself, and he had grabbed hold of my hand. Before he pushed me up to the surface, he uttered four words: “You, master of me.”

And suddenly I was floating back up, and I flew out of the lake, landing on my feet. I wasn’t the slightest bit wet, as always. There was a piece of paper in my hand, reading:

Take my place under the lake.

Yours,

D.

And on my hand was a single word, as if written in black ink. ‘No need to ask for wages anymore.’ I thought to myself as I walked back to my cosy little home, smiling at my own hand, reading over and over again ‘Death’.

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🍰 A Piece of Cake: A Book-less Tragedy! 😵

It was the Easter holidays and I was in my dad’s car 🚗, holding a huge pile of books 📚 in my hands. We were going to the library to exchange them for some new ones. When we reached the library, we started looking for a place to park the car. To our surprise, we found that there were hardly any cars outside it.

“Strange…” I said. 🤔

“Oh well, now we’ve found a place to park the car!” my dad said cheerfully. 😃 He hated the long searches for a space to park.

My dad turned the ignition off and unlocked the doors. I heaved the books up and stepped out of the car. Struggling to see above the books, I staggered over to the library’s main entrance – and discovered that all the libraries were closed for the Easter holidays! I couldn’t believe it! How was I going to live without a single book to read? I was sure to die a slow painful death 💀 in a BOOK-LESS world…

✍🏻 A Short Story & Doodle by The Pawsome Lion 🦁