Death stood at his empty fireplace his freshly sharpened scythe sat resting against the wall, it promised to be a busy night civil war had broken out amongst a curiously tall race of gardeners, apparently over weeding. At precisely the same moment that Marvin nudged the third hand of the clock Death felt a slight movement in his pocket. His spindly fingers rummaged for the empty hourglass that was lurking somewhere in the dark recesses of his velvet pockets. It slid easily out from its hiding place and his bony thumb rubbed over the base to reveal some scrawled lettering. He held it up to the candle light and read the word 'Marvin' aloud. He watched in amusement as sand slowly started to fill the hourglass, a grin stretched across his face. The sand seemingly flowed from thin air and it soon fell to a trickle, eventually stopping completely. Death carried the hour glass to the multitudinous shelves of the living, he had just cleared a spot. Blowing the dust off the oak shelf he carefully turned the hourglass over and set it down, the sand began to fall slowly.
'I'll be seeing you soon Marvin' he said to the hourglass.
Death smiled in the half light.
