It is the irony that makes me smile.
The devil giving life to the reaper. Saving her from wasted hours, high in nameless parking lots with boys that want one thing. The night of spontaneous Chinese dinner and a visit to the mall. Didn’t want to run out of time with each other.
Not love, you cliche fuck. But safe. Real talk and devil’s advocate and bad jokes interspersed with cackling laughter as the sun went down. Life stories hidden in self-deprecating humor and blunt statements.
I don’t think even Fate wanted Time to end, because the devil met the reaper yet again in a Goodwill parking lot, adventures through aisles of cheap clothing and underpriced yet still-loved DVDs.
And the park. The ever-original serial killer jokes. Jumping over the playground and climbing up monkey bars to watch airplanes pass overhead. Even the ending, cautiously held hands and jokes again.
And a drive home, the reaper laughing in headlights as Honda raced Dodge over the highway.
A peace sign parting.
The reaper and the devil.