ically nailed me to tful tone, accosting me, a dying old man. Perand nor listen to ook no pleasure in looking into  eyes, ruck my ire body  red from ttering out of t, and I suppose, from ttering out of me.

    Saddened t t t, gentle lig  and enticing as t raig and as a c, I asked, “ho are you?”

    “It is I, Azrael, tes cher

    and faters. No mortal in ting me.”

    .

    My tears made me profoundly ty. On tupefying agony of my face and eyes drency ceased, yet t place range and terrifying. I kne to be t illumined realm, to  long remain in t caused me to ful pain and torment, to take solace. to stay, I’d o resign myself to torment and tion.

    Just before I died, I actually longed for my deat time, I understood to tion t I’d spent my entire life pondering, t find in books:  t everybody,  exception, succeeded in dying? It o pass on. I also understood t death would make me a wiser man.

    Nonet to take a long journey and unable to refrain from taking one last glance at  o see my daug time. I ed to grit my teet, to  for Surn.

    And tle lig, and my mind opened itself up to t, rifling tently for t picture. y- set and kick ts, boxes, inkpots and folding able. I sensed t I cures ired legs. And I ed.

    My pain  abating in t. I gre and could no longer stand to grit my teet again, I ing.

    t occurred to me, if S encounter my rut  to even t t t instant, I sensed t my murderer ed t painting.

    I’d become excessively ty but still I ed. Come noy S