Dear _____,

Dear _____,

I wish to tell you something.
A tale in which Death knocked on my door.
I greeted her with a mixture of shame and anxiety
But above all, respect, because I was taught to be respectful
Shame and anxiety
Well.
Shame’s brought about by peers
And anxiety because I had left the kettle on and it was starting to whistle but someone was at the door.

I invited her in
Sat her down on the couch

We had an intermission
Talked about how my life was going
How my life had gone

She asked if I had a good day
I shrugged.
I had better.

I asked if she wanted a cuppa
She politely refused
And then explained why she refused.
I didn’t dwell on the matter

The thing is, this letter’s for you
You shouldn’t dwell on such matters like death
It’s morbid actually,
“the answer to life, the universe, and everything”
Is 42

Life expectancy for my ancestors were at most 60 revolutions around the sun
Last year I was 41

Go figure.

I wish I could tell you more
Direct you in the right direction and whatnot

Here’s some advice
Don’t live as I did.
Go do your own thing.
It’s your life.
Not mine to dictate.
Just don’t do anything stupid alright?
Well.
She’s saying my time’s up.
Hope you’ve caught on to something.

This is the end of my tale
hope you get a good cleanup crew
For Death knocked on my door today.