"Not the best way to go, is it?"
I looked up to see a guy dressed entirely in black, lounging by a tree. He was scratching his back with a large, simple looking scythe, and his eyes were a deep crimson.
"Are you... the Devil?" I asked, disconcerted.
"The what? Come on," he chortled. "I'm Death. Nice to meet you."
My eyes went back to the ground- and for the first time I realized that we were in midair. Below us was a car wreck, and a mangled body was leaning out the window.
I recognized the watch that had survived the crash: it was the Rolex my dad had given me for my eighteenth birthday.
It continued operating, uncaring of the events that transpired as it ticked the time away.
Death shrugged. "I don't know about that. Do you want to live?"
"What?! *Aren't you here to take me to the afterlife?!*"
He laughed again. "You have a choice. You can go back into your body and continue your life as a cripple, suffering the occasional fit.
I understand you have a family to care for, and they'd be quite distraught with your passing. You shouldn't have drank that last shot of whisky."
Death paused for just a second, and a curious emotion gleamed in his red eyes. "If you want to live, all you need to do is lie back down in your body. If you want to come with me, take my hand."
I looked at his outstretched arm and sighed. I had always told myself I'd rather be dead than crippled. It would be financially responsible for my family as well, who weren't that well off.
As his fingers closed around mine, a movement below caught my eye.
My body was moving. A hand trembled, then I was looking down at my own face staring back up at me. My body winked and grinned before squirming its way out of the wreckage.
"What's going on?" I demanded. "I said I didn't want to live as a cripple!"
"You didn't," said Death. "But someone else didn't mind."