‘Does everybody have to die?’ asked Kezia.
‘Everybody!’
‘Me?’ Kezia sounded fearfully incredulous.
‘Some day, my darling.’
‘But grandma.’ Kezia waved her left leg and waggled the toes. They felt sandy. ‘What if I just won’t?’
The old woman sighed again and drew a long thread from the ball.
‘We’re not asked, Kezia.’ She said sadly. ‘It happen to all of us sooner or later.’
Kezia lay still thinking this over. She didn’t want to die. It meant she would have to leave here, leave everywhere, for ever, leave – leave her grandma. She rolled over quickly.
‘Grandma,’ she said in a startled voice.
‘What, my pet!’
‘You’re not to die.’ Kezia was very decided.
‘Ah, Kezia’ – her grandma looked up and smiled and shook her head – ‘don’t let’s talk about it.’
‘But you’re not to. You couldn’t leave me. You couldn’t not be there.’ This was awful. ‘Promise me you won’t ever do it, grandma,’ pleaded Kezia.
The old woman went on knitting.”
-Katherine Mansfield, 1922
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