May The Shepherd Rest

“Are you there, god? It's me... Death!”

The hooded figure glances up from the stone fence he’s rested upon, looking up at the sky in silence for a moment before calling out again.

“Seriously, not answering isn’t cool! I mean, If I were to go full radio silence on you I’d end up with a written warning or at least get an earful from Gabriel But you ignore me and that’s just fine!”

Death shuffles the scythe in his fingers before resting the handle between his bony knees as he waits for a response that does not come.

“Fine, well if you’re going to be stubborn then so am I, I’ll just not reap for a few days, Imagine the paperwork!”

Silence fills the air as Death looks around in frustration, before closing his eyes and sighing.

The silence breaks with the sound of rustling feathers. Death opens his eyes to see a figure land in front of him smoothly.

“Well now Death, Let's not be hasty.” a porcelain face smiles!

Death shudders. “Gabriel, I wanted to speak to God, not you!.”

Gabriel’s smile curls into a gentle chuckle as he compiles himself. “Oh Death, God is far to busy to concern himself with every little issue and complaint.” As he speaks his eyes flicker across the the space, a large green field! “Why are we in a field?”

Death gestures to the ground. At his feet lays a rabbit, twitching slightly as foam fills it’s mouth. A sight that makes Gabriel break his angelic persona momentarily. Oh, good heavens, poor little fella, well can’t you handle one dying rabbit?”

Death chuckles, a sound that rattles with an unnatural gravel. “Of course I can reap a rabbit Gabriel, that’s not the point. The point is why should I?”

Gabriel, eyes locked onto the suffering animal seems puzzled at such a question “Well, you’re Death, The collector of the dead-

“Dying!” Death interjects.

Gabriel looks away from the rabbit “Sorry?”

Death’s hand stretches out, bridging the gap between himself and the rabbit. “I take the souls from 'not yet dead' beings, if they were already dead their soul would be forfeit, Lucifer would claim them. So ‘dying’ not ‘dead’.”

Gabriel steps back as the rabbit falls limp “Ok, Well you’re Death and you can clearly carry out your deathly duties, So why am I here!”

“Do you know how many creatures are dying on this planet, No, lets focus in a bit. Do you know how many living souls are dying in this field right now” He pauses as Gabriel looks around but doesn't allow him time to contemplate, “Right now there are four hundred and twenty six mayflies dying in this field, four hundred and twenty six... and that’s just mayflies, that doesn't consider worms, dung beetles or those suicidal moths that headbutt street lights!”

Gabriel Smiles gently. “You are the shepherd of departure though, this is your grand calling.”

Death’s long skeletal finger meets Gabriel's smile. “Don’t. Don’t start with the poetic title rubbish. I had no issue when it was just people, sure there were tears and the odd attempt at bargaining for more time.” He starts pacing, dragging his scythe in the dirt behind him. “But now, Mayflies! Gabriel do you know how long mayflies live?”

Gabriel’s head tilts. “I can’t say I do.”

“Minutes, five on average and that’s if they’re lucky enough not to get eaten by a bird sooner. I’m there by the stream when they come into this world and then again moments later when their wings give out. And Gabriel, they look at me every time like ‘Is this it, Is this the end?’ What am i meant to say to flies.” He throws his hand into the air. “And don’t get me started on ant colonies, entire wars fought underground, empires toppled beneath our feet. Thousands dead and it’s just me. ME!”

Gabriel rests a hand on the shoulder of Death who is now just starring into the distance “But surely the majority of animals pass naturally, they don’t need help do they?”

“You try telling the council that, Honestly, You try sitting across from a dusty old librarian as they list off discrepancies in sparrow souls for three hours.” Death hisses.

Gabriel looks on in pity as Death spirals further, pointing towards the horizon “I passed a cow farm this morning. Dozens of them. Big, blinking eyes. And I thought ‘Not today lads. Just hang in there.’ Because I’m still so behind from the weekend rush of squirrels and pigeons that I’m dodging cows. COWS. Something has to give!”

Folding his hands in thought Gabriel sighs. “I hadn't realized the scale of the issue, what do you suggest?”

Perking up “Well, I was thinking, you’ve got an abundance of angels. Angels for love, war, even messages. So give me one for frogs. Or butterflies.”

Gabriel is momentarily distracted by the wind that catches his almost picture perfect hair before chuckling. “Most beings aren’t so candid about their duties.”

“I’m ancient, I’ve earnt the right to complain!”

The two stand silently for a moment, the sun setting around them. The breeze stirs the grass as a fox trots out from the far edge of the field, pausing to regard the strange pair before darting off across the field.

Death gives a gentle wave. “That one’s got about two weeks. Liver’s on it's way out!”

Gabriel frowns. “You still see the times?”

“Always,” Death murmurs. “Its like a clock ticking above every living thing. I used to admire it’s accuracy. But now I just see a countdown, So many countdowns Gabriel.”

The angel smiles softly. “Let me speak with him, see if we can’t get the council to ease the burden.”

Death sighs. “That would be nice.”

“I can’t promise anything,” Gabriel said. “But perhaps there’s a way to organize things. Maybe lesser beings or those departing in mass could simply... fade.”

Death looks up. “Fade?”

“Peacefully, No escort needed.”

The reaper paused, the breeze ruffling his cloak. “That sounds... beautiful.”

“Again, No promises but I will try. I think it’s time the shepherd got to rest his crook a little more often.” Gabriel spreads he wings, stretching his feathers in the lowering sun.

Death gives a dry rattle. “Bless you, You shiny bastard!”

Gabriel's wings rustle as he prepares to take flight. “Try not to let any more cows escape judgement in the meantime.”

Death nods. “No promises.”

As Gabriel vanishes into the sky, Death sits back down again on the stone fence and looks out across the field. A single mayfly flutters up next to him, tiny wings buzzing.

“Sorry little one,” Death whispers, raising his scythe gently. “Let’s get you home.”

Death smiles as the numbers hit zero and the mayfly lands in his outstretched hand.