Talk about lucky.

I must have just missed that oncoming truck as it veered out of its lane and came right at me. I assume I then blacked out, because I wasn’t in my car anymore, I was sitting on the grass berm on the side of the highway looking at the wreckage of the truck, completely unscathed.

“Lucky is all relative though, isn’t it?” said a familiar voice.

I nodded in agreement before I realized who had spoken. I looked up, bewildered.

“You’ve been very lucky, up until now, at least” said my deceased grandmother with a smile.

My mouth moved, but words wouldn’t form. The sight of my long-dead Nan sitting on a stray car tyre, wearing a foam banana costume was a bit much for a Tuesday morning.

“Aren’t you dead!?” I managed to choke out.

She didn’t look up but tittered in response.

“Noun, not an adjective my boy”.

Implausibly, I became even more confused.

“Urrrk?”

“Not dead. Death.” She said, standing up. She was staring right at me now. Her eyes were completely black.

“You’re DEATH!?” I said, stepping backwards.

“Bingo” She said with a wink.

I asked the obvious question that was ricocheting around my skull like a trapped wasp.

“Am I dead?”

Nan grinned and clapped her hands. The top of the banana-suit wiggled like a joyful porpoise.

“As a doornail, my boy. Now, where are my...” She began patting the suit like someone who has misplaced their wallet.

I spoke without volition.

“It doesn’t have pockets, that suit. I wore one to Halloween a few years back.”

Nan nodded, as if all of life’s questions had been answered.

“Yes, that makes sense. This does seem a silly thing for an old woman to wear.” She squinted for a moment and was suddenly wearing her normal clothes; A faded yellow cardigan over white trousers.

“Well” she said, straightening her battered, faux leather purse. “Come along, we have places to be”.