Grimm

Death doesn't have to be deadly.

"I'm just bored of it. It's all I ever see, death. Death here, death there, death everywhere. It does get a bit tiresome. I’m not sure I even like this death process."

Grimm seemed awfully discontent in his job. He was born into a life he had no choice, with his parents grim reaping for many a year and his grandparents and beyond before that. His cupboard was a sea of black gowns and his shed a never-ending collection of scythes. For a scythe collection it was surprisingly addictive, like a sharp B&Q. Yes, Grimm definitely seemed bit bored.

"It'd be nice every so often to just have something new to do. It'd be nice for my pager to tell me that my baking was ready to take out or that my son has passed a spelling test at school. But nope. Deathy deathy death. They never actually say much once they’re gone, and that’s a bit rubbish too. It’s really quite antisocial of them, I’m a chatty kind of guy when I want to be."

The careers advisor sank back in his chair and pondered the response. There was a brief silence before he broke out with a brief question.

“What makes you happy, Grimm? What tickles your fancy in life?”

“Life? Hah! Don’t talk to me about life.”

His interviewer briefly smiled.

“I know someone else who said that. He had a similarly pessimistic outlook, funnily enough. Friendly little chap.”

“Well, what can I say? I’m the grim reaper. I reap souls and I’m grim, I’m basically made for the job. If my name was Happy Deathman it wouldn’t be so bad. Although, now you mention it I do like flowers. Isn’t it lovely when they arrange them at funerals? I see it all the time. It’s even more fascinating when you get a new name. I once saw a Summer during the winter. My morbid outlook very much enjoyed this irony.”

It should’ve come as a surprise to the careers advisor but he’s heard it all. All kinds of people come to him for advice. People thinking they’re Father Christmas, cult members looking for a better religion to dedicate themselves, he’s even had a few animals in. You’d be surprised how much steam guide dogs want to let out every so often. So this client was nothing new to the quiet advisor.

Grimm carried on with his thoughts.

“Actually I quite like swimming too. It’s very hard to get a good swim on when you spend all your time wearing black robes. It’s really very difficult when it comes to the washing. Maybe one day we’ll evolve into a family that offers some slightly less depressing clothes. Perhaps I’ll bring up the idea of some grey robes next I head out onto my next collection. That would be good. That’s quite exciting, actually!”

The advisor felt like Grimm was smiling but he wasn’t sure due to the eternal depth of black under his good. Of course this felt no different to the many teenage boys who’d come in to discuss their future as a builder.

“What makes you happy about your current job, Grimm?”

The robed figure lowered his scythe to rest at the table and sat back, letting out a breath of air as he considered this valid yet overwhelming question.

“Tough one, my man. I mean the holiday benefits are pretty sweet, y’know? Plus it’s not a dangerous workplace as I can’t actually die so I’m pretty much averse to any risk and that takes a load off my mind. Very rarely you get a really nice chat with the people I’m collecting before they go and it’s nice to get to know the souls. Also the vast majority of mortals can’t see me so that makes food shopping really helpful. I had no idea the self checkouts at Asda supported us on the other side. Have you ever been? It’s really very good.”

The advisor didn’t respond, merely resting his hand under his grizzly chin as Grimm continued to speak. He looked into the distance briefly before finally giving his opposite a response.

“You seem content, Grimm. You don’t seem like a man desperate for change. This is a job that was, quite literally, made for you. You don’t seem like a man… uh, thing… no offence…”

“None taken. I’m not sure what I am.”

“…Well, you seem like someone who knows their role in life. And death, obviously. Moreso the death bit.”

It was a fair point, thought Grimm. He wasn’t sure how many years he’d been doing this but it was a world that he was absolutely born into. Or so he believed, sometimes he pondered if he’d come from that side too that he so often traverses over to and ended up in the wrong place at the wrong time. There was a legend in the reaper mythology that resting one’s head in the wrong grave can result in a lifetime of reaping. Grimm just felt this was an excuse for poor undertaking.

“Well, perhaps you’re right. It’s not like my name is Terry Fireman or Sarah Teacher, I’m the Grimm Reaper. Although I suppose if you’re not into those things it would be quite unfortunate to be stuck with such names. Better that than Bobby Sexual Predator though.”

The careers advisor briefly chuckled at such silly ideas despite his earlier meeting with Sarah Teacher and her desire to become an international spy. He brought out a pamphlet and guided it over to Grimm, who tricked out a bony finger to slide it across the table.

“Listen, give this a read and come back to me. It’s a bit of advice for everyone who’s having a few doubts in their workplace. It happens to all of us, even I let my pessimism get to me sometimes. Take some time to thought it over, reap a few more souls and have a bit of time to yourself when you’re fetching those in the face of death. You’ll feel a lot better for it.”

Grimm’s drooping hood nodded in recognition as the pamphlet was placed into a pocket that didn’t seem to actually be anywhere on his robes. As he picked up his scythe and rose without any sign of actual footsteps, he turned and looked back at the advisor.

“Oh, and don’t worry - I’ll make sure you have a good death one day. One of those ones with the light. You’ll love it!”

Author's Note

(An old story I wrote that I'm posting from an old site.)

Reviews

[Bharath]

Its beautiful...I loved every bit of it...I never thought that the theme would touch a chord with me but I would have to acknowledge that I was wrong. Its sometimes very sad to think that even in a routine that we are comfortable with, we lack something, always discontented with our status-quo, always looking for something new to materialize, always lionizing something we haven't experienced only to realize, quite late, that novelty wears off in any profession, howsoever exalted it could have been at first sight.....