Tushy felt dead. Which was a good thing, in her case. She was practically glowing. Literally, with a greenish light, and her scythe looked way cooler now. It wasn’t the starter scythe she was lugging around all this time, rather the same model, only sharper. Glowier. Scythier.

She swung it around a few times, making lightsaber sounds with her mouth. “Swoosh! Bzzz. Fwoom, frwoum.”

She hopped in place and giggled. “Fucking-A!”

She was walking down Kifisias Avenue, one of the busiest streets. There were lots of people walking, waiting for the bus, hailing taxis, driving cars, scooters. The city was buzzing. And there she was, not really knowing why she’d had wandered off there.

She slapped her forehead, getting an epiphany. “It’s death-sense, stupid!” She fished the obsidian out of the folds of her skirt and held it up to the streetlamp. “Yup, it’s doing something alright.” Wait, what was Miasma’s words? Keep it close to the chest or something. Well, that was easy for her to say, she had a big silver chain and it was dangling right above her perky tits. Tushy hadn’t made any such accommodations, so she just shoved it between her breasts.

“Sss, ouch!” she sucked in air. She pulled it out and kept it up towards the light, slowly rolling it around. In the black reflections of the night, she could see the tiny nick. “Yup, that is sharp. When in Hades did I drop it?” She scratched her head, trying to remember when.

She shrugged. Oh well. How important could a tiny nick be? She hopped off to reap the upcoming traffic accident, humming to the tune of, ‘These boots are made for walking.’

Yeah, okay. She wasn’t wearing boots, or even any shoes at all. But it suited her mood, as she followed the death counters towards the blue car.

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