death & co.

written march 2024. a verbose adaptation of sylvia plath's poem 'death & co.'

the revelation came suddenly, a cold truth settling down like dust.

two of them. it seemed perfectly natural now.

one, always veiled, had eyes like faded photographs. he bore the marks of his trade – the telltale pallor, the birthmarks like water stains on old paper. the other, restless and predatory, a pale fire consuming from within. his hands battling a constant, nervous twitch, clawing at something i couldn’t see.

they spoke little, these companions. one found solace in the hushed whispers of the hospital ward. he pointed out the stark beauty of the babies in their sterile caskets. their tiny bodies adorned with the simple elegance of death shrouds. he did not smile, nor did he smoke.

the other thrived on chaos. his long, unkempt hair seemed caught in a wild wind. his presence crackled with a manic energy. his breath ragged as if he was perpetually chasing something i could not see. he exuded a sense of desperate craving, a need to be acknowledged. to be feared. i remained as i was, unmoved. the frost on the windowpane bloomed into a morbid, fleeting rose. i thought of it as a cruel mockery. life clinging on to an icy embrace.

and then, the finality – the tolling of the death knell. a solitary chime for a life extinguished. it wasn't exactly a mournful sound, but one of completion. like a curtain being drawn on a finished play. somewhere, someone had crossed the threshold. someone had joined this macabre company.

and i? i remained. theirs was a world i could not yet enter, but i was chillingly aware it awaited me sometime or later: a partnership with death & co.

~nikhil