Seasons Don't Fear the Reaper

The name is Summer Adewale, and I'm a young black woman of Nigerian descent living in the City of Toronto, Ontario. Life hasn't been a bed of roses lately, and I'm not just talking about political upheavals, Covid, or the madness we've all been enduring in our daily lives. Nope, I am referring to the fact that the world is close to ending, and I've been tapped to do something about it.

Twenty four hours ago, my biggest worries were about my classes at Ryerson University, the loud tenants who moved down the hall in my apartment building, and the rising interest rate in my MBNA Mastercard. I thought I had a handle on things, until a strange man approached me, supposedly with a message from Above.

"I am Michael, the Archangel," said the tall, dark-haired and bronze-skinned, decidedly Middle-Eastern fellow in the dark gray business suit. I was walking out of Starbucks, heading to my next class, and I wondered what this fool was smoking. Ryerson is located smack dab in the middle of downtown, and I know that the crazies can be well-dressed and attractive, instead of always being the drooling idiots on street corners.

"Good for you, buddy," I replied, and I picked up my pace, just another masked young woman on the streets of Toronto. I walked past a portly Asian fellow and his pet German Shepherd, and brushed past a redhead who was jawing on her iPhone. Imagine my surprise when, upon nearing campus, I found the stranger standing on my path. What the fuck? Nobody moves that fast.

"Summer, we really should talk," said Michael, and he offered a kind smile as he drew near. Instantly, I fell into a fighting stance. I'm five-foot-nine, decidedly curvy, and while I'm no superwoman, I am definitely no pushover. I do Yoga and I've taken a few kickboxing classes in the past. I didn't let thugs push me around on the streets of Lagos, and I don't put up with fools in Toronto either.

"Back off, pal," I said, and Michael grinned, and laid his hand on my shoulder. That's when my world effectively went from mundane to weird. All around us, time stopped, the way it does in those movies you see on the Sci-Fi Channel. I looked at Michael, and then blinked, as all around us, everyone seemed frozen, as though the cosmic pause button got pressed. What in the actual fuck?

"Summer, the world is in danger, and only you can save it," Michael said, and then, the Archangel whisked me away for a little chat. Michael somehow transported us to a park, and I stared at him like he had two heads. I was freaking out. You would too. I had a lot of questions. I always felt like peeing, but I tried to hold it. I was feeling overwhelmed is what I'm trying to say.

"What do you want with me?" I demanded, trying to sound haughty, if only to keep the fear out of my voice. I looked at the world beyond the park. The City of Toronto is home to millions of souls, and all of them were frozen in time as far as I could tell. Traffic wasn't moving. Joggers were as still as cardboard. Whoever this Michael dude really is, he's packing a lot of power.

"Summer, you are one of the Seasons, and the Kingdom of Heaven needs your help," Michael said, and he looked at me with concern. I sighed, wondering what to say to that. I really wanted to get the hell out of there, but part of me was curious about what Michael wanted from me. Seriously, why does a guy who can stop time need help from a funny, smart, and slightly out of shape sister like myself?

"Dude, you can stop time, you don't need me," I said, and Michael laughed, and then explained himself. I have quite a mouth on me, I will admit. Still, I had no idea that my world was about to change. I'm an international student from Lagos, Nigeria. I came to Toronto for school, and also to build a better life for myself. I'm as ordinary as it gets. The poster gal for mundanity. Surely there must be some kind of mistake...

"Summer, as the Viceroy of Heaven, I command legions of Angels, and even I am powerless to stop what is coming, the Dark Reaper is loose, and only you Seasons can stop him," Michael said evenly. I looked into his chestnut eyes and saw that he was dead serious. I sighed, feeling curious about a lot of things, and knowing that I couldn't stop myself from asking questions. I've always been that kind of woman.

"What's that got to do with me?" I demanded, arms crossed, and Michael explained himself a bit. I resisted the urge to bolt. I felt like running but since Michael can stop time, I don't think getting away from him is going to be easy. The dude is on some major power trip, and I definitely don't want to get on his bad side. Humor him and get out first chance you get, I thought grimly, praying that Michael couldn't read my mind.

"You're Summer, the most powerful of the Seasons," Michael said, and with that, he gently bowed his head, then vanished. I blinked, and found myself in front of the student center building at Ryerson University. I looked around, and saw Torontonians of all hues going about their business. I imagined the whole thing, I thought to myself, relieved. I headed to my Business Ethics class, swearing off coffee. I seriously need to stop daydreaming, for real.

What I didn't realize at the time is that the Archangel Michael was right. The Archangel Azrael wasn't always the spirit responsible for taking the souls of the deceased and sending them off to Heaven, Hell or Purgatory. In eons past, this particular job was done by a powerful being named Thanatos, but he went crazy and was sent not to Hell but to the Nihilo, the Space Outside the Universe. With Thanatos the Dark Reaper on the loose, the Universe was out of balance, to say the least...

As I sat in class, I got a call from bae, and found myself smiling. Sally is always doing silly things like that. Sending me cute pictures or funny videos and things like that. I sent her a smiley face, and resumed paying attention in class. Business Ethics is taught by Professor Keith Suarez, a Mexican-Canadian gentleman who previously taught at Carleton University. He's a cool guy and an easy grader, so I don't want to offend him by being another dolt glued to her phone while in class.

Class ended, and I caught an Uber, heading straight home. As I entered my apartment, I caught a whiff of something good. The smell of rice and beans and goat meat emanated from my kitchen. I smiled and went in, kicking off my loafers. Yes, I'm a broke woman. Don't judge me. I stepped into the kitchen, and felt a pair of arms grab me from behind. Dammit, I thought, Sally totally got me. Again.

"Gotcha," said Salma "Sally" Benjelloun, my girlfriend. I laughed, and Sally kissed my cheek. I turned to face her, and a smiling face with wild eyes greeted mine. I met Sally during international student orientation day at Ryerson. She's from the Fez region of Morocco, and came to Ryerson to study civil engineering. Along the way, Sally met me, and discovered that she likes women, and African cuisine...

"My favorite prankster," I said, smiling as I took Sally's face in my hands and kissed her. Sally kisses me passionately, and we hold each other. I thank my lucky stars to have met this wonderful young woman. We're from different worlds, yeah, but so what? Sally and I are two women who love each other, differences in religion, race and culture be damned. Let haters hate if that's what they want to do.

"I missed you," Sally says, and she gives me the look, you know the one. My sweetie is horny, and I'm totally okay with that. Sally turns off the stove, so the food doesn't burn up, and we head to the living room. Off comes my tank top, and my Yoga pants, and Sally slips out of her stylish blue Kaftan dress and stylish dark blue Hijab, revealing a slim, athletic body which I can't get enough of.

"Hmm, I can tell," I reply, and Sally grabs my ass, my thick Nigerian booty, which is my favorite feature. We kiss again, and I caress Sally's breasts as she sits on my lap. I slip my hand between her thighs and finger her pussy. Sally closes her eyes and rocks against me. She is so beautiful, my bronze-skinned, raven-haired princess. I slide three fingers inside Sally's pussy and she sighs happily, loving what I am doing to her.

"Hmm, I like that," Sally coos, and I pick her up and carry her to the carpeted floor. Sally lies spread-eagled on the floor, a world of woman for me to explore. I kiss Sally's lips and her throat before caressing her breasts. My hungry mouth finds its way to her crotch, and I inhale her womanly scent. I bury my face between Sally's thighs and feast on her pussy. My boo cries out my name, urging me to continue.

Sally and I continue with our fun, and it is her turn to explore and taste me. I feel a little self-conscious as a bigger woman as I lie naked but my sweetie looks at me with such love that I know I am beautiful...to her. Sally kisses me, and sucks on my nipples while fingering my pussy. When she buries her face between my thick dark thighs, I moan in pleasure. Let the good times roll...

"Oh fuck," I cry out, orgasmic, as Sally's tonguing and fingering of my pussy drive me to the edge. I shudder violently as I cum, and Sally holds me tenderly. We lie like this, safely in each other's arms. I feel happy with Sally. I feel loved. We love each other deeply. In Nigeria, I would be risking my life by openly loving another woman. The same would apply to Sally in Morocco. In the City of Toronto, Canada, as Sally and I walk through malls, holding hands, nobody cares or minds. Life is A-Okay.

Sally and I spend the rest of the afternoon together. We dine on some fine Nigerian-style white rice, bean sauce and goat meat. Afterwards, we curl up on the sofa and watch The Boys on TV. The edgy, deliciously dark superhero drama is one of my favorites and I can't get enough of it. Sally is more of a Walking Dead fan but I am slowly converting her to my cause. Superheroes are better than zombies anyways, and dammit, that Maeve character is smoking hot. I'm having Xena flashbacks whenever Maeve is onscreen. In other words, I'm in dyke heaven!

"How was your day?" Sally asks, running her hand through my Afro, and I smile and shrug. I have managed to totally convince myself that the encounter with the Archangel Michael, the teleportation and time stoppage did not happen. I am simply Summer Adewale, Nigerian-born nerd, Ryerson University student, and a lover of women, comic books and strawberry cheese cakes, in that order. Supernatural conflicts? Missions from Above? Ain't nobody got time for that, seriously!