Death: I don’t know that for certain, though. Emily: How can you not know? Death: I don’t have scientists to find these things out for me, do I? Emily: I thought you’d know everything. Death: Of course I don’t. I think that’s impossible. Besides, it’d be terrible, knowing everything. Emily: Some would say being you would be terrible. Death: Really? It’s not that bad. Emily: Exactly. But I think I’d rather know everything than be you. Death: Seriously? Emily: Maybe. Death: Huh. Hey, I remember you now, by the way. I checked. Emily: Oh, that’s good. Hey, who was the last person you talked to? Other than toddlers? Death: Uh... that would have to be... Harshal, I guess. Emily: What was he like? Death: Grumpy and unhappy, mostly. Emily: Oh? Death: Yeah, he never liked me very much. Especially after his young wife died. Emily: Gee. How did you meet him? Death: He could always just see me, for some reason. In all my forms. We never worked out why. In the end we just took to ignoring each other. But we had a bit of a chat when he died.
--- Alt text: Alas, poor Harshal; I knew him...
Biweekly updates resume
January 1, 2019
From January 1 2019, new pages of The Bright Side will be published on Tuesdays and Saturdays.