Yesterday, I saw Death. We only shared a glance, and a nod, before he went on his way back into the tangled branches of the tree of life. He looked just like everyone else there. Only his eyes gave him away. He was busy that day, I guess. I wonder what he had planned.

     He once said he was the son of Fear and Sadness, the nephew of Anger and Greed. I told him he was insane. He told me he was Death, and that Insanity was his cousin. Who could argue with that? I guess he needed someone to talk to.
I’d seen him since I was a newborn; he’d always be the random man on the street walking up to me, telling my mother how adorable I was. The one who would come to your door when you ordered Chinese, who makes you repeat yourself over and over again because he has bad English. The male nurse who tucks you in at night after surgery, who no one says was ever there the day after. You know, that man.

      Ironic really, for death to be a nurse. You would think he’d be too busy taking lives to help others live that same life he was yet to take.  The truth is though; the look in his eyes that gives him away is guilt. Always, always guilt.
If you knew him, you wouldn’t know what he would try next.  See, he loves life,  and not the person. He loves the feeling of life, the essence that created it and now holds it to us.

     I could tell you about death all day, but he’s just like everyone else in his family. Strange, unlike their names suggest.  Fear, I know, instills fear on us, but he is not a coward. Greed is very generous, even being an old woman didn’t stop that.  Insanity sees things too real, he’s too ‘there’ to realize anything you don’t shove in his face.  Happiness is so busy sulking, she never talks to anyone but life, and that’s because Life is so obsessed with Death that it’s all she ever talks about.
No one is allowed to know this but me, and whoever finds this note shall be the only one who will know.