I wonder how many deaths we see or read in the course of a day? We watched Inkheart yesterday in which most of the characters died twice, once to the people they left behind and once again when turned to ash. On the other hand I read a short story by Stephen Donaldson last night in which two characters snatched their lives from the jaws of Death at the last instant, cheating the Temple and the cauldron of molten iron.
Death in the Llewellyn takes the form of Pwyll, who after a chance meeting with Death while hunting agrees to take his place for one year. The Welsh are complicated...and tough. I think I'll try to keep Death at arms length this week.
"Walter turned three cards; The Prisoner, The Lady of the Shadows, and Death, "but not for you, gunslinger". "Go then, there are other worlds than these." ~ Jake, Stephen King, The Gunslinger 1982
The cards open previously closed doors to my own heart with their merciless quest for the truth, nothing but the truth. They flay the soul and make me say thank you afterward. Each hour spent with my cards is a new lesson to be learned. Viva la Journey.