William Bouguereau Yvonne

William Bouguereau YvonneWilliam Bouguereau Le JourWilliam Bouguereau DawnWilliam Bouguereau Dante and Virgil in HellBill Brauer Scarlet Dancer
Albert flapped the polishing cloth and pulled back Death’s cowl.
ALBERT.
Death pulled out the tiny golden timer.
DO YOU SEE THIS?
‘Yes, sir. Very nice. Never seen one like that before. Whose is it?’
MINE.
Albert’s eyes swivelled sideways. On one corner of Death’s desk was a large timer in a black frame. It contained no sand. ‘I thought that one was yours, sir?’ he said.
IT WAS. NOW THIS IS. A RETIREMENT PRESENT. FROM AZRAEL
HIMSELF.
Albert ‘But you’re Death, master,’ said Albert, running crab-legged after the tall figure as it led the way out into the hall and down the passage to the stable. ‘This isn’t some sort of joke, is it?’ he added hopefully.
I AM NOT KNOWN FOR MY SENSE OF FUN.
‘Well, of course not, no offense meant. But listen, you can’t die. because you’re Death, you’d have to happen to yourself, it’d be like that snake that peered at the thing in Death’s hand.‘But . . . the sand, sir. It’s pouring.’QUITE SO.‘But that means . . . I mean . . . ?’IT MEANS THAT ONE DAY THE SAND WILL ALL BE POURED, ALBERT. ‘I know that, sir, but . . . you . . . I thought Time was something that happened to other people, sir. Doesn’t it? Not to you, sir.’ By the end of the sentence Albert’s voice was beseeching.Death pulled off the towel and stood up.COME WITH ME.