The Jealous Reaper

Death had been my companion for all of my life. The figure of the Reaper had been a perpetual sight, for he was always there, always watching. Indeed, his presence was so familiar to me that I grew accustomed to it, I did not dread or fear him at all. Besides, he did not seem to pose any particular threat. He did not draw near, always hovering, lingering on the edges of my vision. He would stalk me if ever I happened to find myself in a crowd. I would glance behind and see him, far away but f...