It was dark and cold outside, dark and cold like Swiss winters are used to being. The streets were deserted, and no one saw the hooded figure who silently plodded along snow covered Kramgasse. Upon reaching number 49 the walker turned, climbed the three steps leading to the door of the unremarkable house which sat there, and knocked.

It took a minute for the tenant to walk down the inner stairs and open the door. He was young, with bright, lively eyes, dark hair and a trimmed moustache. He scrutinised the mysterious shape standing at the threshold, trying unsuccessfully to make out a face under the hood. “Hello?!” he finally said, with a distinctive German accent. “May I help you?”

“Mister… Einstein? Albert Einstein?” a sepulchral voice answered.

Einstein’s blood curdled. “Yes?! It’s me,” he said. “Who are you?”

“I, am Death. I’m here to carry you away with me. You have one minute to clean your stuff and say goodbye to your family. Unless you want me to coerce—”

“Pffft!” Einstein cut in. “How gross to go around frightening people like that. Buzz off and leave me alone, I have work to do.”

The other did not respond. Instead, its bony hand reached out to a nearby Christmas tree and touched it. Instantly, all the needles turned to brown and fell onto the ground.

Einstein took one step backwards and looked down. “So it’s really [i]you[/i]… But why? I’m still young and healthy!”

“Even babies die, mister Einstein,” Death answered.

“You can’t… I mean, not now! I’m about to solve one of the biggest mysteries in the universe… It’s… It’s there, only a few folios away… I just need to put my ideas down. You can’t do that to me.”

“I’m afraid I have no choice, mister Einstein.”

“Look,” Einstein said. “Gimme a year. A single year. I’ll work as fast as I can. Next December, I’ll have all wrapped up and published. I promise I will go with you. You have my word.” He fell on his knees and joined his hands in prayer.

“One year? And you will follow me without protest?” Death replied.

“I swear it. Please, please!”

Death rubbed its chin under its cowl. “Deal!” it finally said. “I give you extra 365 days. No more. Have your theory ready by then, mister Einstein. Good luck!”

“Oh thanks, thanks, thanks! Be sure…” Einstein answered, but Death had already vanished. 

[hr]

It was dark and cold outside, as usual during Swiss winters. Einstein was huddling with his wife and son in the bedroom when three ominous knocks sounded at the door. 

He grew pale. His wife broke out into tears.

“It is time,” he said, standing up. “Goodbye my darlings!” He kissed his wife, then the little Hans-Albert in his cradle, and walked out of the bedroom down the stairs. He opened the door and faced the tall and dark figure he had met a year before.

“So, mister Einstein?” the same eldritch voice said. “Did you put everything in order?”

“I did,” Einstein replied, stooping. “Matter, energy, speed, I’ve got everything in place.”

“Are you ready to come with me, then?”

Einstein sighed. “I am.”

But all of sudden Death burst into roaring laughter and jabbed Einstein in the ribs, so hard that the physicist almost tripped backwards.

“Ah, my old bugger!” Death bellowed, when it had regained some semblance of composure. “I don’t want you. You’re free to go. Better run upstairs and hush your wife, you bloody fool!”

Einstein’s eyes grew wide. “I… What? You… You don’t want me anymore?”

“And why would I?” Death replied. “You gave me exactly what I expected from you. That theory of yours, do you know how precious it is to me? Thank you, thank you so much!”

“How?… But… It’s just a handful of innocent equations. I don’t understand…” Einstein protested.

Death snickered. “Eventually you will. Eventually you will, my child. So goodbye for now!” It turned around and descended the steps to the street. 

“Just a handful of innocent equations… What a laugh!” Einstein heard it say. The Grim Reaper rounded a pillar and blended into the shadows. Einstein looked around, but it was gone. There was nothing outside now, but pristine snow, darkness and silence.

Einstein closed the door and leaned heavily against it. He remained there for a long time, motionless, aghast. Then he shambled up the stairs to his bedroom, where his wife was still sobbing.