When people talk about Death, they describe many things.

A hooded black figure with a scythe and shining white skull, like one of those stone statues at the entrance of some graveyard crypt.

Or a beautiful being with golden locks and white feathered wings, warm fingers leading you to a life without pain while glorious bells chimed in the background.

They certainly wouldn’t mention a skeleton dressed in a black coat and scarf, shielding itself from the pouring rain with a black umbrella. Bewildered I stared across the street, clutching my briefcase tight in my hand. The people beside me ignored that strange creature like it was invisible to them. They complained about the weather and that their groceries would get wet.

My heart pounded faster as the traffic light switched from red to orange. Why did no one else see that thing? I hadn’t gone mad, had I?

Green. The crowd of people started moving across the street like a small swarm of bees. The rain poured mercilessly down onto them. The ghostly figure on the opposite side didn’t move, like a steady rock in the ocean as waves of people swept around it.

I was meant to follow them, but I couldn’t move a muscle. Rain ran down my face, into my eyes. The traffic light was still green, the seconds quickly ticking down. Six, five, four.

The screeching of brakes on the wet asphalt. A truck had barrelled into a car parking by the crossing. The screams of people rang in my ears and bright flashes of car headlights filled my vision.

When I came back to my senses, breathing heavily and sitting in a puddle on the ground, the street in front of me was in chaos. Pieces of metal lay around and red mingled with the rain.

The figure on the other side was gone.