Oh Vanity of vanities

 

What a strange day on Earth, and it was only 10:22 in the morning.

Death, clad in flowing cream pants, a white top reaching over her chest to the base of her neck, her hood matching her pants, embellished with gold. On her feet were oxfords, white and cream, tied tightly for the grounding. 

She had taken her pale horse down the old war path not knowing the destination, just that there would be one of vision, whose it would be she did not know. Down the mountain and through the spiraled canopy woods she made her way...

A man in a moss blue shirt with a Hawaiian motif of tropical greenery greeted Death and returned her brilliant smile. 

"Abracadabra, I, I see the magic you do!" He raised his arms up as she opened the window portal. Then he bowed to her. 

"The spells I spin are the breath of life." Death knew God was listening, always.

He opened the door for Death with flair and in she walked, grounded on the earthly realm.

She looked around the room where her audience waited. A place where everyone wanted to see and not all could, even with correction.

It was the fake red-haired woman with her reshaped nose that she thought looked better than her old one Death was drawn to first. The cataract surgery her surgeon had done incorrectly left her without the possibility of using contacts and she 'has TMJ' and doesn't want to put anything over her ears, then she explains she really just doesn't want to walk around with goggles over her eyes and she just want to see the way she wants to see she explains to the woman in cream and white, her vision focused, clear and wide, knowing what it is to look through glass. 

"Was it Ecclesiastes?" Death asked no one and everyone in the audience and then said,

"Oh, vanity of vanities...The story of wasted breath and time, death still arrives." Death said in a voice to be heard with clarity and presence.

She looked at the next man, the others in the space had no escape as they waited.

"What's '85 bears?" Death queried the man close to her. His shirt a memory of another time of no importance, as he tells her all about the Chicago bears and that he and his wife are heading to visit friends in Colorado in a couple weeks. 

"Colorado you say? It's so beautiful, I used to love the air there, these days it's much different; they actually serve people refurbished sewage water to drink, that's most places now a days though. When were you there last?"

"Oh, about 20 years ago we went to Colorado Springs. We loved it."

"It's gotten distressingly dangerous there. Awhile back a man dragged a woman to death in Castle Rock and the therapist said they were too mentally ill to know better, so the Judge let him back on the street."

She let it hang in the air and then...

"There's a mass problem with people that aren't 'homeless', if you hear someone say that it's a housing problem, they aren't being honest, it's sexual violent predators they let wander the streets."

The man from Chicago says they probably won't go there so he doesn't have to worry about that stuff; not his problem. His eyes glaze over, a film of to blur lines so he can look around but not see. 

A woman in a loose fitting plain white T-shirt and soft denim blue capri pants, normal by most standards, leans in and says,

"Did you hear about the AI center they want to put here and all the water it will use?"

Death ever grateful for the people God chose for her looked the normal woman in her eyes, gratitude for the spark of life, so she could extinguish it with surgical sound precision,

"Right?! It's so bad, and what can you even do about it? You know they will put it in, you get no choice. The City Council or whom ever gives the thumbs up doesn't care about you, just there end of the day steak and potatoes, and again, what can you regular person do about it? well if you did you would probably go to jail." There was no laughter.

Death didn't count the empty eyes surrounding her that could see nothing. The nobody woman with her lanky daughter that would only gaze at the hem of Death's cream flowing pants as she thought, ‘why can't people be kind?’ 

The talisman vision room, an audience of eyes watching with no mind to see where vibrations in the air take cause.