You died.

For five minutes.

At the End of Time, There Is a Café.

Beyond its windows lies a darkness that asks nothing of you. Behind the counter, a forgettable man with a magnificent mustache tends an old espresso machine and an endless supply of tea cakes.

And sitting at a nearby table is Death.

Not frightening. Not breathtaking. Just pretty, completely androgynous, and apparently enjoying a cup of coffee.

Five minutes in the living world might become hours here. Years. Eons.

Have something warm. Talk. Watch fleeting worlds appear beyond the windows. Get to know Death—or don’t.

There is no judgment here.

But somewhere impossibly far away, someone may still be trying to bring you back.

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Hola, peoples. Ocks here again with something new. A quiet story about death, life, and what happens in between. Join Death for a cup of coffee and a tea cake. 