I catch Emma’s eye as she looks up from her clipboard. She’s staring at me, a faint smirk on her face, and I can almost ignore the materialising scythe long enough to take a swing at her. Honestly, It’s a wonder so many bitches go into nursing.

I drag my eyes away from her patronising smile. I look at the man with the scythe. He’s not smiling- in fact he looks rather concerned. It’s too soon to tell whether this has anything to do with his layman clothes morphing into a torn black robe.

‘Are you...’ he starts to say, and Emma’s looking back at her clipboard, the smirk still on her face.

The man takes a device not unlike an iPhone from his robe. He presses buttons, he taps the screen, he scratches his head. ‘Is William Scott in there?’

I stare at his scythe, and whisper: ‘Is that a scythe?’

He smiles, and the scythe is gone. ‘Sorry. Bit spooky, right? You’re not supposed to be seeing it. Or me, for that matter. This...’ He shakes the device, holds up to his ear, shakes it again. ‘This thing’s on the fritz. The guy in there, is he sleeping?’

I nod, ever so slightly; Emma’s looking my way again.

The man turns, noting Emma’s gaze. ‘Sure stares a lot, doesn’t she? We should go in here. We... I guess we need to talk.’

I open the door behind me, let him walk in first.

‘I’ve gotta say,’ says the man. ‘Normally when this happens... and it happens a lot, it’s been years since they upgraded these things...’ He shakes the device once more. I wonder what he’s trying to achieve. With all the shaking. ‘Normally people are a little more shocked. You know... scared. They see the scythe, they think the worst.’

‘You’re the reaper, right?’

He blinks. ‘Is this... have we crossed paths before?’

‘Nah. But it makes sense, right? Terminally ill dude in here. You walk up, wanting inside. And you’ve got a scythe. A magical scythe, from the looks of it-‘

‘Well, I wouldn’t call it magic.’

‘You’re the reaper. The god damn grim reaper. You’re right, I should be more surprised.’

‘But you’re not.’

I shake my head.

The old man in the bed struggles for breath.

‘So you’re here for him,’ I say.

‘Well, I’d assume so. But like I said-‘ Holds up the device. ‘Fritz. So I can’t get a name. And for some reason you can see me. We keep warning the... the boss. If they don’t upgrade these things soon, it’s gonna be more than one person who’s able to see us. And when more than one person can see us, more than one person can talk. And people listen to groups. One person claiming they’ve seen the reaper? Mental institution. But a group of people? That’s when folks listen. That’s when it’s-‘

‘Right. Got it. Device thing’s fucked up, I can see you, you’re here for this guy but you’re...’