A Creative Writing Class Assignment - first draft ©Rosalie Thorne
Just as the true opposite of love is indifference, the opposite of God is Death. Death is creation’s shadow, Death can neither be created nor destroyed. Death is the one true constant of existence, a never ending eternal force… Death can never leave. But just because Death must stay, doesn’t mean it’s all work and no play.
In the beginning there was only God and Death, but soon after light shined through the darkness. Perhaps this is why Death has a soft spot for the longest day of the year, perhaps this is why Death is set on visiting the Midsommar Festival. A festival so full of light and love and life… a festival so full of things he never can experience himself, things he can admire but never touch.
They say it’s darkest before the dawn, so this is when Death arrives. Dewdrops twinkle as he drifts through the forest and by the time he reaches the festival grounds, he is completely corporeal. As human as he can possibly make himself, this will ensure that today is an exception to the rule. (Today wasn’t supposed to have any deaths in the vicinity, anyway, which is why he chose this location.)
Today’s festival is to celebrate Midsommar, also known as the Summer Solstice, and is one of the very few days of the year that everything – not just the Earth – is balanced. Perhaps another reason why Death is drawn in… just like anyone else on vacation, wanting a sense of serenity. And as he takes long strides, his boots only slightly sinking into the earth under the weight of him, he tilts his head side to side, curious at all that is happening.
Silently watching, as is his nature, there are plenty of people setting up their booths – booths for food and drink, clothing and jewelry, home goods, and other artistically decorative things. For a moment he wishes he had a home to fill with all these things… things only the human mind could conjure. That is one thing he and God have in common: they both admire, are sometimes impressed by, and are found of the human race.
Which might be part of the reason he’s depressed, he is simply the end. Never getting to take part in anything, never getting to have influence or connections… only able to watch from the outside. Watch the magnificent birth, watch all the triumphs, watch all the creativity, watch all the love… watch all that is life until it is no longer. See the beauty of the fire, feel the warmth of the flame, but never able to touch it, to hold it – utterly shapeless until it is no longer. Then, the last ember dies in his hands and he accepts all that is left into his care.
Why do you think there are stars in the night sky? Death paints the darkness with all that he finds beautiful. Tonight will be no exception, inspiration from the day overwhelming him. … that’s how it’s always been, so that’s how it always shall be.