Libba, Jackie, Nina

By Vivian L Foss

Three individuals were taken prematurely by Death. Libba, an overworked, pious woman. Jackie, a young musician; and Nina, a mystifying woman. The three of them each look back on the regrets of their life, and their regretful contentment they found with Death.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Foss Publishing
• Release date: Aug 11, 2023
• ISBN: 9798218262778

Book preview

Libba, Jackie, Nina

Vivian Foss

Prologue

        Death’s foreclosure was too much for Life to bear. And so Death was granted golden groves, and there he was a shepherd of cows, for he was too brash for sheep. The two were lovers and when they came together in unity a soul was taken instead of granted.

        Life’s honesty was too much for Death to bear, so she was made into a River. She hated Death for what he did, that scoundrel was granted an entity he could control, but Life had no choice but to move forward.

        Death was sent to watch over those who had not quite made it to Heaven or Hell. He could also take anyone he deemed fit to deal with him. An immoral body who dealt with the same mental hindrances as those who lived. Death had not been born, he will not die, he does not live.

Chapter 1

         The horizon grew large, blues and oranges and purples touched but never bled into each other; a perfect gradient. A picture that would take years to paint, a painting could not do it justice, no, the colors would mix and blend, but this image contained millions of different colors, touching, but not bleeding. The various hues hugged each other, creating a warm embrace  seen by all who looked to the sky, and the one who saw it everyday was the Sun. Sun was frowning upon his golden groves now. He looked down and could see those grasses, a foot high, never once smooshed or trampled, and in the distance, a little poor brown cabin. The only thing keeping it from sadness was that it was obviously occupied; so it would be called cozy instead, because coziness is just hopeful sadness. In the fields beyond the house were cows, thousands, as far as the eye could see. There, the hills were a deep yellow, engraved by years and years of muddy, rough hooves. But flowing through all these hills and cows, and just in front of that little cabin was a river. A river so beautiful and so bright, it made the Sun frown every night, for he was so sad to see it pass, causing the skies here to be a little more blue in the evening than usual and the midday to be a little more bright. The river’s color changed each passing second, from light sky blues, to a deep midnight, to a piercing white; She was stunning! And overlooking it all was Death.

        Death tended to his cows and when he was bored, he would run to the river and touch it. And when he did so he would prematurely take a soul to himself. Rather selfish of Death, and he did feel horrible, but he got so bored you see, and besides, he would only do it oh so rarely. The river, she got to view every moment of any life she wanted. Death, all he had were the cows. But Death could interfere with Life, and Life could do nothing, all she could do was watch.

Chapter 2

        Death had lived hundreds of years and every day he heard the cows. Their incessant moans would drive him insane. Death tried to distract himself. In his cabin he’d run around, chasing himself, calling out names, acting out plays in the most profoundly infantile way imaginable.

        " Arghhhh Peter! I am comin’ fer ya I say!" And he would look at himself in a mirror, turn in a full circle and switch characters.

        Aye not yet Hook! Fer there’s on-

Moooooaa

There’s one th-

Moooooaa

        One thing yo-

Mooooaaaaa

        Oh for Christ’s sake!For a brief moment he’s mad, but his childlike whimsy gets a hold of him as soon as he looks at himself in the mirror. He turns to the mirror again, and mimes himself putting on a top hat.

        In a horrible British accent Death says, These bloody blokes! and gives himself a good laugh.

        He grabs a chair and puts one knee up, places his elbow at a perpendicular angle on his knee, and pretends to smoke while talking so he barely opens his mouth, and in a slow southern drawl says, "These dog gone cows! I’d say they're driving me mad but they're nothing compared to the old bitch back home! Har Har Har Har!"

After it all Death looks at himself again. This mournful moment allowed him to recognize his madness. He thought to himself he’d go and kiss the river. He justified it by saying if nothing fixed his madness soon he’d probably kiss the river a thousand times out of pure hysteria.

Death grabbed his leg like a paralyzed pirate and walked with a hobble down to the river. The grass lay flat along the bank where Death would spend every morning and every evening along the river.

        Three feet across the river he caught a glimpse of himself in the reflection, gripping his right leg as if it were really stiff.

        What are you doing? For a moment he was disgusted, but soonly that changed to anger, and eventually loathing.

"I remember, yes, yes, yes! I remember. I used to be strong and powerful! Oh my love, my grace, was so strong it scared her! Death twirls. Tight as a pulled muscle she was! Oooo whee! Aw but look at you. Oh how the mighty have fallen, fallen so hard they’ve landed on this god forsaken piece of land and why do I stay here? He throws his hands in the air. Why? Yes, because I cannot move. For miles and miles and miles this land is all I'm granted but no! Nothing here but these god forsaken cows. She, he pointed to the river, ruined me! and pointed again to himself. But yes I bet she grieves and she grieves, solemnly, she does. I know her, she feels every life, every joy and sadness