I’ve often been outspoken about the fact that I am a fan of Terry Pratchett’s Discworld novels. One of my favourite characters is – like for many other readers – DEATH. This anthropomorphic personification of death sometimes dabbles in human endeavours like when he takes out his apprentice to a restaurant for a curry or when he eats little pieces of cheese impaled on little wooden skewers next to some grapes. He tries so hard but never quite gets it completely right. I can just see him at a costume party trying to be inconspicuous as a bunny.
