He’d been around here before-I’d see him as he often would sit there,like he was waiting for someone,brooding quietly underneath the hood of his black jacket. I would look away for only a few seconds,and he’d be gone.

I never thought much of this man,really. He most likely had an ill family member,so there was no need to report a grieving man such as him.

Until it was my turn to check on the terminal patient,Tomas Thatcher who had been diagnosed with cancer the previous Christmas.

It had been the normal job,make sure he was comfortable,and consoling him,as he often spent did days in bed silently and hollowly thinking about his inevitable death. It was rather...melancholic. But I tried my best without giving him false hope.

What was odd was the same man I had seen before was watching the clock just on the opposing side of the hall to the man’s room none-too-eagerly,a grave look in his sunken eyes. It was barley a second after I exited that he slinked towards that room,but I didn’t remember Mr.Thatcher saying he would have any visitors today. He was always wishing he could see his only son on a Wednesday.

“Sorry,family only.” I said to the man,knowing he was not Tomas’ son,but he stared at me. A nurse walking by gave me an odd look as I continued to watch the man,but I ignored her in favour of what he said next.

“You can see me?” to which I raised an eyebrow and nodded. In his hands,however,appeared the answer to my question. A scythe.

This was Death.

That’s why he was here. Tomas Thatcher was about to have his soul reaped.

The recognition in my eyes was apparently obvious as he shook his head sorrowfully. As if reading my thoughts he said, “Yes,I’m death.” as if he were stating the sky was blue, ”Though that doesn’t explain how you can still see me. That should only be possible of wandering spirits or other reapers. “ he continued.

“Well...I don’t feel close to death.” I said. If he was so chilled with this situation,why should I worry? And his presence was...oddly serene. “And you aren’t. Not by a couple years.” he agreed,nodding firmly,still calm even if he stated she was only a handful of years away from her death date.

There was a silence,before death looked at the clock again,before gesturing to my still outstretched hand. “Can I get on with it then,I’ve got another job in 5 minutes.” He asked,to which I nodded,putting my arm down,still in some sort of daze.

He entered the room.

He never came back out,but I still see him sometimes. I send him discreet smiles and waves,which he acknowledged with a nod but didn’t return.