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says with a sigh, dropping the fork with a victorious bang.
    And the sun sets on the city as Phlattwaire takes out his notebook to write down what otherwise would have been a thought passing like the wind.

Two Urinals from Death
    James Sabata
    A ndy stood two urinals from Death with no idea what to do about it. While he usually made a practice of staring directly at the wall in front of him, he found it increasingly difficult not to sneak a glance at the hooded figure standing at the other urinal or at the scythe leaning upright between the urinals. He watched as the scythe began to move, sliding down the wall. The Reaper caught it just before it fell. “Sorry. It’s always doing that.”
    Andy zipped his fly, staring at the ground. He did not want to make eye contact, particularly with someone who didn’t have any eyes. “Not a problem.”
    He began to move toward the sinks as the Reaper said, “You’re Andrew Singleton, right?”
    Andy stared at the hooded figure, deciding the best way to answer. “Um. Yeah.”
    The Reaper laughed as Andy washed his hands. “Don’t worry, that’s not why I’m asking.” He watched as Andy scrubbed. “Get it all off. Those pesky germs will kill you.” Andy’s eyes grew big. “Sorry, just a figure of speech.”
    Andy washed again, in case there was any truth in that joke. He looked over at the Reaper. “So you’re—”
    “I am. Do you know Malory Jacobs?”
    “Sure. She works on third.” He gasped, realizing what he had just done. “Are you gonna…I mean… She’s going to—”
    The Reaper grabbed his scythe. “Indeed. It’s her time. I’m sure they’ll say it was burgers or cigarettes or whatever, but in reality, when it’s your time, it’s your time.”
    Andy toweled off. “Does she know?”
    “Most people don’t.”
    “That seems harsh.”
    “Death is just a part of life, Mr. Singleton.”
    “Will she see you coming?”
    “Some do. Some don’t. It’s always hard to tell ahead of time.”
    The Reaper started to head toward the door. Andy’s voice stopped him. “Can I ask you something?”
    “You mean, what happens when you die?”
    Andy nodded.
    The Reaper’s hand came up as he did his best Mafioso impression. “If I tell ya, I have to kill ya.” He howled with laughter and then abruptly stopped.
    Andy shivered. “I can’t believe I’m in the bathroom with the Grim Reaper.”
    The Reaper’s hand shot out, pointing at Andy, “Don’t call me that. I hate that name. Why does everyone assume that just because I go around taking people’s lives all day that I have to be grim? It’s actually kind of a fun job. I meet new people every day. I get to travel.”
    “I didn’t mean any disrespect.”
    The Reaper placed his scythe against the wall again. “I know. It’s one of the downsides of the job. I have the same conversations every day, and the misinformation has come to really annoy me.”
    “I’m sorry.” Andy shuffled his feet. “Man, I can’t believe you’re going to off Malory. She’s such a nice girl.”
    “How you act only affects where you go, not how you get there.”
    Andy paused again. “So, you’re really not here for me? I’m not, like, already dead or anything?”
    “Heavens, no. You’re just as alive as you’ve always been.”
    “Good. You had me worried. I have a lot to accomplish before I die. I mean, I feel bad about Mal—”
    Death moved over to the sink to wash his hands. “You know, Iget that a lot. Everyone knows they’re going to die at some point, but they always think there’s more time. You guys need to just start doing whatever you’re doing.” The water ran through his bones and onto the floor. The puddle grew more as he wiped his hands on his robe.
    Andy nodded his head. “You’re right.”
    The Reaper stuck his hand out. Andy shook it. “Well, Mr. Singleton, it was good to meet you.”
    “No one is ever going to believe me.” The Reaper opened the bathroom door. Andy pointed.