What makes my character stop? It has to be the same thing that makes me stop, a somewhat annoying cat that decides it's time to sit on my lap and purr his way into getting me to slow down. If I'm still not in the mood, he will pet me to remind me how he expects to be petted once I have slowed down.

In this story of frustration in the workplace (albeit heavenly) I have tried to use the sense of emotional feeling to create the scenes.

DEATH's DAY OFF

'REPORT TO THE COMMITTEE: NOW!'
‘It doesn’t matter WHAT I report,’ the lone worker exploded in indignation; all the screens flashed the same message.
‘It doesn’t matter what arguments I use either, all I ever get from the Committee is, "DO NOT TO INTERVENE!’ he shouted up to the domed ceiling. He glared at the port-panel. It glowed in the red light reflected off the screens.
‘It’s alright for them, they aren’t the ones run off their proverbial feet. Why, the other half of this department is practically barren!’ He fell silent, mouth open, eyes shining.
‘Aha! If they aren’t willing to do anything, and I’m not allowed to do anything, there’s only one answer left; and only one place to go.’
He gathered his Scythe from its hook and moved swiftly towards the shimmering portal to exit the offices of Births and Deaths.
Meanwhile on Earth, the news reporters were on a 24-hour call, as they continued to phone in their reports. There were rumors about soldiers in the War Zones, after being fatally wounded, inexplicably living long enough to be rescued. The reporter for a local country TV station, at the district’s Hospital found it hard to believe what the young Mother told him. It was not exactly the ‘norm’ for miracles to happen, not in his town.
‘Mrs North, how do you explain baby Leon living for the twenty hours it took for the Doctors to arrive from the city?’ Tex watched the recording of his interview.
‘It’s a miracle!’ Kerri North said, in a whisper, almost afraid to vocalize her feelings. ‘They say he should have died, but he didn’t!’ Kerri North looked up into Len’s camera with tears of happiness filling her eyes, ‘isn’t it wonderful!’
‘That’s great!’ Tex said as Len snapped off the recorder and scrambled to his feet from off the hospital steps. Taking his camera operator by the arm they headed for the hospital’s main exit.
‘I can remember when unexplained deaths made headlines,’ declared the Cameraman, now it is unexplainable survivors!’
‘Something weird is going on Len’, agreed Tex, ‘there hasn’t been one fatality anywhere on the planet for the last twenty four hours, let alone this sleepy little hollow!’

‘WHERE IS HE? …WHERE’S DEATH?’
The noise level of this voice shook the floor of the Great Room. Those nearest to the Conference table are able to stay on their feet only by grabbing the table’s edge. Those who were still moving to their places, vainly reached out for each other as their feet went out from beneath them.
The owner of the voice moved purposely, creating a tail wind, to the top of the table
No round table, arrow shaped; the Boss’s sense of humour showing in the design. He sits at the point. His point view, is the One and only point of view and His Will, will be done; always; normally.
'Well, who can tell me? Pull yourselves together,' the Boss eyed the crumpled shape, 'Thomas, pick your self up off the floor and tell me what you believe to be the situation.’

.It was the morning of my wedding day, and while I was still resting, my father sat at the edge of my bed. He looked at me lovingly through tear filled eyes, embraced my face and whispered, "Figlia di mi cuore." 'Child of my heart,' he said in his native Italian tongue. Emotion stumbled from him like waves crashing on a sea of memories. That one precious moment remains fresh in my mind and those words are as clear today as they were so many years ago.

i am about to look over my ms, using this prompt to try and enrichen (?) it.

I am writing a memoir and find the senses a very real part of what I write. It may be the aroma of chicken soup simmering on a fall day as my {long ago} small children arrive from school clamoring for chocolate chip cookies, or the thrill of the first time my little granddaughter's chubby fingers enfolded mine.
Going- way... and -I do mean way back the sensation of my eyes looking into my husband's eyes and knowing this was the start of something big! .Bloomsburg Pa.