We had broken through to the other side, and were welcomed by a magus who owned a falafel shack. She ordered a chicken falafel, and I the beef kabobs.

Death was who we were there to see, but decided it was probably a better idea to find a safe, quiet place to sit.

I looked into her honest eyes and saw that they had been anointed with the absurdism of the breeze.

I remember not liking the other side–the beer was foul there.

Maybe Death will still be there for us next time we visit–I hope so.