The hospital room Mike was in after his heart surgery was quiet except for the beeping of the many machines around him monitoring his vitals. Mike was barely awake when he saw a bright light in the doorway to his room. He raised up slightly and saw a dark silhouette standing in the doorway.

“Who is that?” he mumbled. His strength was diminished due to the surgery, but he felt it start to return as the figure moved closer to him. He appeared to float across the floor towards him, and a fog seemed to follow him. “Who is that?” he said in a much louder and stronger voice, but still the figure didn’t answer. Then as it approached his bed he at last realized who it was. It was the one person people feared most and had been the subject of many a horror movie in his youth, the Grim Reaper.

“What…This can’t be happening I have to be dreaming?” he said. The Reaper looked at him and moved in close enough that he could see the light in his eyes and skeletal face with a wicked smile, and he finally spoke in a much friendlier voice than he expected, “Time to go buddy”. Mike felt himself become light and strong. He felt all of the wires and probes that were attached to him pull away, he was free. He stood up and felt better than he had in ages.

“Come with me my friend and I will show you wonderous things.”. Mike was more than happy to follow and began to follow his new friend out into the hallway where he saw the nurse sitting at her desk, with a look of panic on her face as she ran to the room he had been in. He then saw the doctors run with the crash cart. “Apparently there is an emergency,” Mike said as he laughed and smiled

“We have many things to see Mike,” Old Grim said to him, and with that, Mike found himself in what appeared to be a dive bar. There was something strange about the bar though, and he couldn’t put his finger on it till he stood up and ordered a drink. “I’ll have a whiskey and sour please.”. The bartender poured his drink and said “It’s on the house buddy.” and laughed.

Mike began drinking, looked around, and then figured out what was wrong here, all of the customers were dead people. In one corner he saw Mark Twain and Hemingway drinking together. In another corner, Jim Morrison tipped his glass at him and started talking to Marilyn Monroe. He just couldn’t believe this was what death was going to be like. He looked at his new friend who slapped him on the back and said “Drink up.” then tossed back a shot of tequila, “Don’t worry there are never any hangovers here…one of the perks since we never go to sleep.”

As the days went on the two of them traveled the world from Paris to London just to watch the people, they quickly became the closest of friends. They would sit on benches and laugh as the Reaper would pick out the next ones to join their group. They had Presidents, actors, and writers with them. The Reaper always said that Mike was his best friend.

He took him to all the great dead hangouts. The places he never took any of his other victims, though he preferred to call them his clients. He always said he was taking them to places they never would see in life and trying to make the transition easier…he really did seem to enjoy his job.

One day while they were sitting in Central Park, not too far from the hospital Mike had been they were enjoying one of the great New York hot dogs when all of a sudden there was a bright flash. A flash like the one the night the Grim Reaper had taken Mike. He felt this pull on his body and yelled “What’s happening?”, the Grim Reaper smiled and said, “I’m sorry Mike it just isn’t your time, but I’ll see you when it is.”

The next thing he saw were the lights of the nurse at the desk and the doctor standing above him. He let out a big breath and heard the doc say “I thought we lost you.” He didn’t pay much attention to that but saw his friend smiling behind him with that bony hand and bright eyes, and then disappeared.

I see dead I see living Who knew they look the same My friendship with Grim Has cost me everything My family My friends Everyone I love I see them dead I try to reach out But I can’t talk to them They see me I see them That’s all it is My friendship also has me alive for a long time If I had a choice I will never become friends again My life now feels like it’s in limbo I just want to die But I can’t Even though I know my time has passed Grim decides who lives and dies But he won’t let me

The night was falling, its dark cloak slowly covering everything in its path. The park in the middle of the woods was beginning to look desolate, with only me sitting on the bench, waiting for my date. This was our third meeting, always on a Tuesday, always at the exact same time.

My mind wandered back to our last encounter and what she had shown me. I was beginning to understand that life and death are nothing more than an eternal pilgrimage through worlds, endlessly.

“Are you ready for today?” Her voice sounded, as soft and pleasant as ever—a voice that dulled my senses in a moment of ecstasy. “I can’t wait to show you more of my world.”

She was there, more beautiful and radiant than her voice.

“Yes, I’m ready, my lady,” I answered, bowing my head and gently kissing her hand. “As always, I am at your service.”

“Well then, hold on to my waist tightly,” she replied. With that, her shining white wings lifted us high into the sky, carrying me through the clouds on that dark night. After a while, we arrived at a vast, arid desert, hot and blazing under the sun. Below, I saw people with their heads buried in holes in the dry ground. As I wondered what it all meant, she explained, “These are the souls of those who, in life, could never quench their thirst. They always wanted more, no matter the cost or who they had to harm. They were always empty and dry. Here, they must search for water beneath the ground to satisfy their thirst. Once they complete their penance, they will be transferred to the next level, where they can begin to ascend.”

“Wow,” I replied, astonished. “I know many people like that.” I was taken aback by this vision—a terrible fate, but somehow just.

We ascended once more, and with the blink of an eye, the scene changed. We were now in a desolate, pitch-dark landscape that seemed tangible, as if one could reach out and touch the darkness. In the middle of it, a small campfire glowed faintly, with people gathered around it. As we drew closer, I could hear the sounds of weeping, the grinding of teeth, and laments of regret.

“This is the land of outer darkness,” she said, her voice tinged with sorrow. “It is where the souls of those who were once faithful, but became entangled in distractions, are sent to complete their purification. They failed to finish their purpose in life, and now they must remain here for a thousand years before they may enter the rest of paradise.”

“I see,” I replied thoughtfully, considering whether I, too, sometimes allowed myself to be distracted from my purpose. “At least these souls have a better hope than the first ones you showed me. Will you show me the land of the righteous?”

She smiled and nodded. “Perhaps, but that will be for another time. There is much more I must show you first. For today, what you have seen is enough. Keep these things in your heart.”

With a swift turn, she headed back, veiled by the clouds, the stars shining brighter than ever above us. As I pondered all she had shown me, we began our descent. The city lights below grew brighter, then the buildings came into view. We moved away from them, approaching the woods until we landed softly like a feather, back in the same park, on the same bench where we had met.

“Until our next meeting,” she said kindly. “Remember, same day and same time.” She kissed me softly, then rose swiftly into the night sky and disappeared.

I never imagined I would befriend and have rendezvous with the Angel of Death. I never imagined she would be so radiant and beautiful, or that she would show me—the simplest of priests—the wonders of the afterlife. Meeting her has revived my faith and given me hope and love.

The town of Eldermoor was an unassuming place, with its quaint, cobblestone streets lined with weathered storefronts and old-world charm. As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of crimson and lavender, a gentle breeze danced through the air, carrying the scent of autumn leaves and woodsmoke. Seventeen-year-old Lily Havens, bundled in her favorite knitted scarf, meandered home from school, an unshakable sense of restlessness coursing through her veins.

With every step, the familiar path felt less inviting, as if the aura of change hung thick in the air. Drawn by an inexplicable force, she left behind the comfort of her predictable route, venturing deeper into the looming woods that bordered Eldermoor. The dense trees stood sentinel, their bark rough and gnarled, while twisted roots snaked across the ground like ancient veins of the earth.

As Lily wandered, the sounds of the village faded into a muted symphony of rustling leaves and distant birdsong. Shadows elongated and danced between the trees, an unsettling yet enchanting spectacle. Then, her gaze fell upon a lone figure, leaning casually against an ancient oak, draped in a cloak darker than the night itself. The figure seemed to absorb the fading light, exuding an aura of calm permanence.

Curiosity banished apprehension as Lily approached. The figure had a skull for a face, but rather than a harbinger of fear, the expression was oddly serene, framed by a hood that swayed slightly in the evening breeze. Silver eyes gleamed within the darkness, reflecting not just the fading light, but fragments of lost souls.

"Are you lost?" the figure inquired, voice smooth yet resonant, as if it echoed through time.

Lily swallowed hard, her heart racing. "No," she answered, hesitant. "I was... drawn here. Who are you?"

The figure straightened and pushed back his hood, revealing a skull painted with intricate designs, glimmering in the twilight. "I am Revan, the keeper of this realm, a guide through the shadows that bind our worlds together."

Instead of fear, Lily felt an unexplainable sense of calm wash over her. The heaviness in the air lifted as they struck a conversation, sharing stories amidst the quiet forest. Revan spoke of souls he had guided, the whispered tales woven through the fabric of time. They spoke of the joys they had known and the lives they had lived. Each story was tinged with the bittersweet essence of lost opportunities and cherished memories.

As days turned into weeks, Lily and Revan's bond deepened. Guided by moonlight, he took her on nightly excursions through the ethereal realms, showing her places where time held no dominion. They visited forgotten graveyards bathed in silver light, where the spirits danced among the stones, their laughter echoing against the silence of night. Lily learned to interpret the delicate energy that surrounded these lost souls—a gentle breeze brushing her skin, the trill of laughter woven into the wind.

Revan taught her to find beauty in sorrow, molding her perspective into something profound. She learned that life wasn't merely about existing; it was an intricate tapestry of emotions—love, grief, hope—woven together in a dance as old as time. Each encounter with the spirits revealed their desires, fears, and regrets, etching a deep sense of empathy and understanding into her heart.

But as their friendship flourished, a shadow loomed over Lily's newly discovered world—a realization that began to fracture her idyllic existence. The more she understood the intricacies of life and death, the more she yearned for her own life to have meaning, feeling like a mere observer in a world fraught with uncertainties.

One moonlit night, sitting atop a grassy knoll with Revan by her side, she finally voiced her fears. "What if I’m just a passing whisper in this grand tapestry? What if I never matter, never leave a mark?"

Revan turned to her, his skull adorned with patterns reminiscent of constellations. "Lily," he replied, his voice heavy with wisdom, "every soul matters—your presence leaves an imprint, just as every spirit you encounter shapes the world you know. Embrace your fears; they will guide you to your purpose."

Together, they explored the breathtaking connections that intertwined the living and the dead. Lily confronted the harsh realities of mortality and loss, but she also discovered the beauty in remembrance, the strength found in shared stories, and the healing power of connection. Through her friendship with Revan, she came to understand that the legacy of each life lived rippled through eternity, transcending time and space.

With each revelation, the weight of her fears began to lighten, replaced by hope for what remained to be discovered. Yet, deep down, Lily sensed an inevitable truth: their time together would be fleeting. The balance between the living and the departed was delicate, and she could not remain in the shadows forever.

As the final autumn leaves fell, Lily and Revan prepared to navigate the realms of love, loss, and the bittersweet beauty of existence. Together, they delved into the mysteries they sought to uncover, forging a connection that transcended the boundaries of life and death—a friendship that would guide them both through the twilight of their journeys

I guess I was always a bit out of the ordinary. I’ve always gone that extra mile when people tell me no. Today I read a story about the grim reeper. He seems a lot like me. Misunderstood and working for things that aren’t easy. I did a bit of research and the only thing I found was a 12 year old girl. It said she killed herself as a sacrifice to him. What was intriguing to me was that when they went back for the body it was gone. He must have found her. These days I’m so desperate for a friend that doesn’t seem out of the options. But how would I befriend him if I’m dead. However the article didn’t say it had to be the person themselves that was sacrificed. My moms been getting on my nerves lately. Always telling me what to do and not giving me freedom. The grim reaper would give me freedom. That night I sit on my bed staring at the knife. She’s gonna die at some point. For all I care she’s just a background character in my life. Normally invaluable but now, I have a use. I gently pick up the knife and run it across my arm. As the blood trickles down I smile a bit. It’s sharpened. In that moment my mom yells from the other room. “Get off your ass and do chores!” She says. Now I’m fed up. I stand up with the knife behind my back and walk over to her. “What are you doing?” She yells. In that moment the anger comes out. I quickly extend my arm and plunge the knife in her stomach and twist. Not long after she stops breathing. That night I saw the grim reaper. He found me. He took me to the woods and showed me the most wonderful things. It’s as if we’re invisible but not in the way I normally am. Like we’re only there in spirit. I see goosebumps on arms as we walk by but they don’t seem to actually see us. Eventually he silently leads me to a door. “Door of death” it reads. It seems comforting in some since. I follow him in and am met with a gloomy place. Dark, eerie streets filled with people. Only these people aren’t “people”. They have all types of injuries. Axes in their heads, guts ripped out, but some just look pale. I’m met with my mothers horrified face at the end of the street. All of a sudden the grim reapers gone. I look forward to be met with everyone charging mr with knives. Then, darkness.

It all began on an unremarkable Tuesday, under a sky that was half gray with the threat of rain. Micah was sitting on a bench in the city park, the kind of place where people walked their dogs or pushed strollers. The sort of place where life went on in all its mundane glory. Except that Micah had never felt more disconnected from it.

It had been six months since the accident, six months of waking up with that dull ache in the chest, a reminder that life went on, even when you weren’t sure you wanted it to.

Then he sat down beside Micah. Not that anyone else noticed. He wasn’t exactly invisible—more like, people simply didn’t want to notice him. Dressed in an impeccably tailored black suit, the figure had an aura that felt like twilight, the fading edge of something final.

“Mind if I sit?” the stranger asked, though he was already sitting.

Micah glanced sideways, brow furrowing. There was something unsettlingly familiar about the stranger’s face, but it wasn’t a face Micah had ever seen before. A voice echoed in his mind, as if he had been waiting for this moment, or perhaps dreading it.

“I suppose,” Micah muttered, staring straight ahead. “Not many people bother asking these days.”

The stranger chuckled, a low, almost soothing sound. “People tend not to when you’re used to being... overlooked.”

Micah turned, looking at the man more carefully now. His skin was pale, almost luminescent, with silver hair that shimmered like a storm cloud. His eyes, though—they were unsettlingly dark, pools of endless night.

It hit Micah like a punch to the gut. “You’re him, aren’t you?”

“Depends,” the stranger said, smiling. “Who do you think I am?”

Micah’s breath hitched. “The Grim Reaper.”

The man tilted his head, seeming amused. “One of many titles. I prefer Thaniel. But Grim works too, I suppose.”

Micah wasn’t sure how to respond. Six months ago, he might’ve laughed at the idea of meeting Death. Now, though, after standing so close to the edge, it felt like less of a joke and more like fate.

“So, what? You’re here for me?” Micah asked, more bitter than afraid. “Finally decide it’s my time?”

Thaniel gave a soft shake of his head. “If I was here for you, you’d already know. You’d have seen the door by now.”

Micah swallowed, not sure what he meant by “the door,” but not eager to ask.

“Then why are you here?” Micah pressed.

The Reaper’s expression softened. “I’m here because you saw me.” Thaniel paused, his dark eyes glinting like distant stars. “And once you see me, things change.”

Micah frowned. “I don’t understand.”

“You will.” Thaniel rose from the bench, and the world seemed to ripple around him, the air growing colder. He gestured to the path ahead, where people walked their dogs, pushed their strollers, and hurried about their lives—only something had changed. Shadows flitted just behind them, shapes that weren’t entirely human. Wisps of translucent figures, lingering at the edge of sight.

Micah blinked, heart racing. “What... What is this?”

Thaniel’s voice was calm. “The world of the dead. It’s always been here, but now you can see it.”

Micah’s pulse thundered in his ears as he looked around, eyes darting from one ghostly figure to the next. They were like echoes, half-present, drifting through the world without really belonging.

“I didn’t ask for this,” Micah whispered.

“No one does.” Thaniel’s voice was gentle. “But once you’ve brushed against death, you can’t unsee it. You’re standing on the edge of both worlds now.”

Micah sat in stunned silence, the weight of it all pressing down. The world of the living and the dead—two sides of a coin, forever intertwined. And somehow, Micah had become caught between them.

“Why me?” Micah asked after a long silence, voice barely above a whisper.

Thaniel sat back down beside him, resting his elbows on his knees. “Because you survived. And in surviving, you became aware of something most people never do—the delicate balance between life and death.”

Micah stared at the Reaper, suddenly feeling more alive than they had in months, yet haunted by the sight of these two intertwined realities. “So what now?”

Thaniel’s smile was almost sad. “Now? You learn to live with it. You’re one of the few who can walk between both worlds. And trust me when I say... the dead are just as complicated as the living.”

Micah laughed, a strange, shaky sound that echoed across the park. “Great. More complications.”

Thaniel stood, looking out at the city around them. “The question is, Micah... What will you do with this gift?”

Micah wasn’t sure it felt like a gift. But as the two of them stood there, watching the invisible lives of the dead drift by, Micah knew one thing for certain: life, death—none of it would ever look the same again.

And maybe, just maybe, that was okay.

Never has, or indeed, will a friend be as present in my life as death was throuout that unusual summer. It began with the loss of one of my classmates.

At adolescence we tend to let our worst impulses control us. Some people’s worst impulses amount to hate or even outright violence but by and large it will amount to sheer stupidity. I think if a person takes stock they would find that the most ridiculous things they’d ever done were during those awkward, formative years between 13 and 18.

At age 17, Chris demonstrated us this at the cost of his own life. It was a wasteful, senseless way to die. He was engaged in an activity known as car surfing, no further explanation required as to what that entails. While “surfing” the person assigned with the dubious position of driver hit a pothole. Chris was flung forward off the hood of the car and would have been fine, had it not been for the panicked driver failing to brake in time. Suffice it to say, those watching learned something that day about trauma, and Chris never learned anything again.

I saw it happen and I will never forget. It wasn’t the gruesome scene that sticks with me, I think we block things like that out to a certain degree. What stuck with me was the thing nobody else saw. A tall, hooded figure.

I didn’t notice him at first but he stood of to the side of the accident head slightly bowed, as if presiding over the calamity. My heart stuttered dangerously and my skin prickled as my brain registered what I was seeing.

As if it was called by my terror, the figure looked up sharply. Under its hood was nothing but a smoky visage. But, and I can’t say how I knew this, if it had eyes they would have been locked with mine.

“Can you see me, mortal?” An oddly pleasant voice sounded in my mind. It seemed excited. Was I imagining a hopeful lilt?

Unsure of how to respond, that is, with my mind or with my voice, it spoke again.

“Hmm, yes I’m quite sure you can. Your heart gives you away. I assure you, you have nothing to fear from me. Not now.”

I decided to try thinking the words, “ Are you what I think you are?”

“I am who you think I am.” Corrected the voice. “I must do my duty here for Chris but then, I would speak with you at length if you find such a thing agreeable.”

Overwhelmed, tears fell and I asked, “Will Chris be okay?”

“Your kind have many misconceptions about me but one comfort I have found to be true is that he will be at peace. This I promise.” These words rang in my mind with such a comforting authority that I couldn’t help but believe them. All I could do was nod.

Thus began my friendship with death. He taught me many things that summer, but mostly he taught me that I should remember him in all things. That I should cherish my life but not fear his arrival.

To aide in my budding acceptance of his inevitability, he allowed me a peak behind the vail. There, I saw misty fields with rolling hills and a sweeping, dark, wood off in the distance.

“It will differ, of course from person to person.” Death noted. “I rather enjoy your realm. And don’t be afraid, you won’t be alone, there is a meeting place that I cannot show you until you are among the dead.” He continued. “Think of this as your own haven.”

He stopped coming around the beginning of fall, noticing that I was spending more and more time with him, saying I should be among my own and enjoy life though he was loath to part with company. His was a mostly solitary existence and people like me, who could see and speak with him.

I took this summer with me though, so that as my time now approaches, I am looking forward to seeing him.

Caleb was rather tired at the moment and in his bed. Of course, the poor man couldn’t get a wink of sleep with the paranormal party going on in his bedroom.

The music, a noise that only ghosts the paranormals could hear, was loud and pumping, the beat fast and hard. Flashes of bright light was weaving itself through his room like spotlights. The ghosts cheered and hollered to the music. Caleb closed his eyes, trying to block out the noise, but he could feel the heat of the grim reaper’s stare as the death tried to make sense of him.

Demise sat still, right above Caleb on his bedside desk, watching him below like a cat. The death had poked Caleb’s cheeks a few times, muttering his apologies. Caleb ignored him and so this was their predicament.

It was Demise’s fault anyway for agreeing to let a dead man have his dream. Caleb opened his eyes to peek at the death, whose ebony eyes brightened up as he noticed, and shook his head.

Demise was something else altogether.

“Put on the clothes,” Caleb tossed Demise one of his oversized shirts because the grim reaper was rather large and they needed to make him look more “human”.

Demise sniffed the clothes as Caleb pulled his sweater over his head. “These garments smell like you, Caleb. Like rosemint and vanilla.”

“Number 1: don’t say that again, people will think you’re crazy. And Number 2: don’t open your mouth.”

Demise bumped his two index finger together repeatedly. “But if I don’t open my mouth, how will I speak?”

Caleb gave him a dazzling smile. “Exactly!”

“Now look,” the two were making their way to Caleb’s job, a small cafe located in a little corner downtown, “I don’t want you saying anything weird to the customers, so you will need to help somehow.”

Demise nodded his head enthusiastically, still true to Caleb’s instructions.

Just then, out of nowhere, a ghoul slid up out of the sidewalk to block their path. It was bluish in color and looked quite sad.

It didn’t seem to see them; its eyes were staring straight ahead, blank, unseeing.

“If you were wondering, that one died in sadness. Probably a loss of a family member caused, or happened, to end in their death.” Demise whispered.

Caleb was quiet for a moment. “Wow, tha—WAIT A SECOND! You aren’t supposed to be talking!”

Demise’s eyes widened, and he smiled sheepishly. “I’m so—“

“NO TALKING!”

Yasmine was used to weird and strange things. Her girlfriend used to be in a cult and her own father was a serial killer. Yasmine thought herself very well connected to know who is…peculiar.

But Caleb being late for work, man, that’s something she never sensed would happen.

“But he better hurry up,” she muttered, handing a customer their money and going to the back to tell Hailey the order, “This shit’s getting to much, and it’s almost lunch time.”

That’s when they all dropped to the ground, limp and broken, eyes to the heavens.

——

(Don’t mind that. I’ll probably finsh it later for the villain introduction. Maybe, maybe not. Writing block is attacking me!!🙂‍↕️ Anyways, thanks for reading and have a good day!)

I felt the chair give way from under me. I knew that soon, my misery would be over. I could finally be at peace, not to live in constant fear. My chest was tightening up, by now I thought I would be struggling to free myself. I guess this really was the right choice. The room around me started to look like a tv struggling to get signal. You know the ones where if you move the antenna just right then the picture would be clear again. I knew that wasn’t going to happen for me. My parent wouldn’t find me until it was too late. Not that they’d care, nobody would care. Slowly the burning in my chest went away. The pictures around me were slowly fading to black. I smiled knowing I was finally free.

My eyes flashed opened. Dazed and confused I took in my surroundings. I saw my body, like a Christ,as ornamental from a tree. If my body is there… then how am I conscious? I looked around. Though I could see everythingm it was as if I was staring in through a fogged window. The door to my bedroom swung open, with such force the whole house must of shook. It was like a movie playing out in front of me. My father cutting the rope from the ceiling. My mother crying and screaming for me to be okay. “You’re parent do care gravely about you.” I spun to the unknown voice. There stood a man, holding a scythe, wearing a long black robe. Snorting a turned back to the scene in front of me. My ,other was now on the phone, presumably with 911, my father doing his best at CPR. “If they cared about me they sure never showed it until now. Let me guess you must be death here to take me to my new home.”
“Not quite young one. Though I am death, it is not your time. You still have those who care about you a great deal. Though with how close you have come to entering my realm, I do give you this warning. When I return you to your earthly body, you may notice a few changes. Do not be frightened though.”

“But I don’t want to go back! That’s the whole point of this!” I gestured to the scene, paramedics have now arrived. “I will explain more when I can. In the meantime, please call my Grimm. It won’t be the last we meet.” He took my hand, and placed something inside it. With a tap to my forehead, the world went dark again.

My throat was bruning, and my chest felt heavy. Opening my eyes I swore I was in heaven. So much light a brightness, I was happy. I succeeded. Or at least I thought until I looked over to see my mother sleeping in a chair, my hand in hers. Her eyes have sunken in, her hair, a birds nest now. I squeezed her hand with as much strength as I could muster. Her eyes fluttered open. The once vibrant blue they were,  now a dull gray. Maybe Grimm was right. Maybe they do care. “Maesi? Sweetheart?” I looked over at her, her voice rough. “Oh sweetheart you’re awake! Let me ring the doctor! We were worried you wouldn’t wake up again! It’s been so long!” She was rambling, but what did she mean by long? I was only out for a day wasn’t I? I tried asking her how long but no sound came out. Putting a finger to my lip my mother silenced me. “Wait for the doctor sweetheart. He’ll be here in a moment. I’m going to text your father.” She released my hand grabbing her phone. I looked over to my other side and there sat a small night stand.  On it sat some flowers and cards, my childhood stuffed animal, and a necklace I’ve never seen before. “You’re father will be here as soon as possible, he’s leaving work now.” I looked back over at my mother.

The doctor came into my room a shot while later.

Tell me about the point The point at which if shifts Does it blur or grey Or is it somehow more vivid

Does everyone know The answers to the final question Is it like this for everyone 5050? Or steeper odds

Now you’re saying you don’t know Like a taxi driver has no idea If the train will arrive But you hope I can find my friend in time