A Chronical of Life and Death

Now she could not fathom it.
She pondered the death most of all.

A Poor Soul came to her, as they always did.
Christall had been studying the life again, the troubling life with the familiar shoes, and had not been aware of the Poor Soul's approach.
She started, and then hurriedly pushed the life she had been perusing away into the distance.
'Hello, yes?' she asked, rather irked at having been disturbed.
'Hello,' said the Poor Soul.
'Well, what can I do for you?'
'I'd like a life, please.'
'Ah, very well,' Christall reached out and grabbed a life at random. She held it out for the Poor Soul.
The Poor Soul looked a little uncertain.
'Um,' it said.
'Yes?' asked Christall, acidly.
'Um, is it a good one?' the Poor Soul enquired meekly.
Christall was dumbstruck for a moment. This was not something that she was used to, a Poor Soul questioning the life that she offered it. But then, she thought, maybe she had neglected to give the life the spin she usually enjoyed presenting so much. Quickly, she glanced into the life, meaning to find a few succulent morsels there with which to tempt her client. But to her surprise, she found that much of the life had become quite opaque to her. She could see what happened in it, but she could understand very little.
'Oh, yes,' said Christall, stalling, 'Yes, quite a remarkable life, this one ...'
'Well, what happens in it?' asked the Poor Soul, politely, but with what Christall considered something of an inappropriate firmness.
'Oh you know ...' said Christall vaguely.
'I'm afraid I don't,' replied the Poor Soul.
'Well, you ... die on a ship,' said Christall at random.
'On a ship?' said the Soul.
'Yes, a ship. At sea. In a storm.'
'Oh.' The Soul seemed thoughtful for a moment. 'Is that much fun?'
'What? Oh yes, tons of fun!' said Christall, somewhat annoyed by the Soul's cheek. She offered the life up to the Soul with what she hoped was an obvious finality.
But the Soul did not take it.
After a moment, Christall shifted.
'Does there seem to be some kind of problem?' she asked coldly.
'Well the thing is ...' said the Soul nervously.
'Yes?' prompted Christall.
'The thing is, I ... don't think I'd like it.'

'What!' exclaimed Christall, positively flabbergasted by now, 'Well, I mean, what's not to like? I mean, it's the Sea! It's got it all! Power! Romance! The raw savagery of nature!'
'It doesn't really do it for me.'
'Doesn't really do it for you?'
'What about that one, there?' said the Soul suddenly; indicating the life Christall had been looking at earlier when the Soul had arrived.
'What, this one?' asked Christall, guiltily.
'No, not that one. The other one. No, not that one either. The one you keep sort of pushing away.'
'Ah, you mean this one,' said Christall, reluctantly bringing out the life that contained the familiar shoes.
'Yes, that's the ticker. What happens in that one?'
'Oh, very boring life, this one,' said Christall, a little too quickly, 'Not much happens in this one at all. Bit of a wasted life, one might say. Bit of a non-event. No, you're much better going for one of these nice lives, over here.'
'Hmm ...' The Soul sounded worryingly unconvinced.
'Well, hurry up, hurry up, I haven't got all of eternity, you know!' said Christall, quite untruthfully.
'Actually, if it's all the same to you, I think I will go for that life.'
'Well, as it turns out that life is ...' Christall thought desperately, 'That life is, uh, reserved.'
'Reserved?'
'Yes, reserved. Here, take this one.'
And she moved smartly forward and thrust a different life at random into the soul. Both Soul and life promptly vanished in a puff of nothingness.
The really strange thing was, Christall could not say for the life of her why she had done it.