"You've been living for too long," the voice hissed in the old woman's ear. "It's time for you to go."

The old woman shook her head vigorously. "No. Never, not until he comes home." The old woman stroked the old photo of her husband, and she let out a long, sad sigh.

The voice laughed. "You think he's coming home? You sad old woman!"

"He'll come home." The woman's voice sounded broken. "I know he will."

The voice materialized. "You have been knowing for quite a while, old lady."

The old woman met Death's gaze. He was not as she imagined him to be--he did not look one bit evil. He was wrinkled, like the old lady, and had soft, sad eyes. Eyes that had seen to much. Death smiled softly, and reached out his hands to the old lady. She did not take them.

"Just a little bit longer," the old lady whispered. "I want my husband to come home."

Death sat down next to the old lady. "And if he doesn't come home? Life is not a fairy tale, woman. You should have learned that by now."

The old woman hugged her husband's photo. "This is only a dream," she murmured, squeezing her eyes shut.

"Dreams are powerful things," Death whispered.

"A year," the old woman said. "Give me a year."

Death pondered for a moment. "Let's play a game."

The woman eyes Death warily. "I don't trust you."

Death reached out his fingertips towards the old woman. "Ah. Come with me now, old lady, or play a game with me."

"A quick game?" The old lady's breath was coming in short gasps, as if she, too, knew that her end was coming soon.

Death tipped his head to one side. "It's a game. My quick and your quick are two different quicks."

"Get on with it," The old woman snapped. "I don't have all night."

"But you do." Death's eyes danced with unspoken words. "Old woman, since you seem so intent on hiding from me, let's play a little game of hide and seek, shall we?"

"I don't..." The old woman trailed off.

"You don't want to?" Death tapped his chin. "Oh, so sad. I'm afraid you'll have to come with me, then."

The woman's eyes blazed. "I won't come with you!"

Death seemed amused. In an instant, he was standing in front of the woman. "Oh, you have spirit! I haven't had such an unwilling customer for a while. Sadly, Life isn't here for you. She gave in and gave you to me last night, and now I am here to claim you." Death's lips spread into a smile. "Life gave you up easily. She knows that you have been living far too long, and for nothing--a dead husband."

The old woman sucked in a breath. "He's not dead!"

Death's eyes were sympathetic. "Oh! Don't you think I would know whether he was dead or not? I remember claiming him, in fact--he was rather eager to leave this world, to-" Death paused and watched the old woman closely.

The old woman's eyes pricked with tears. "No..."

"Yes." Death sighed. "Life and Death are unfair, old woman. Life and I don't usually make exceptions for people just because they want us to make a exception."

"My husband..." The old woman gazed down at his picture, and a tear trickled down her cheek.

"Won't you come with me now?" Death's voice was soft. "You'll see your husband again. You can be together again."

The woman looked from Death to her husband's picture. "I... I think..."

Death leaned forward, licking his lips eagerly.

"I think that you are lying," the old woman retorted.

Death stared at her. "He misses you. He wants to be with you, he yearns for it."

Tears streaked the woman's face. "I don't believe you!"

Death grabbed the old woman. "He wants you," he hissed. "But you don't want him!"

"I have children, and grandchildren!" The old woman exclaimed, yanking herself away from Death. "I have to take care of them, even if my husband is dead like you say!"

Death's eyes burned with a dark fire. "Think hard about your choice, old lady," he growled.

"Get away from me!" The old lady screeched.

"Fine," Death said, and dissolved into darkness.

The old lady woke to crying, and her oldest grandchild came rushing into the room. "Help!" She gasped.

The old lady rushed into her room, and her heart ached at what she saw.

Lying in her crib was her youngest grandchild, and when the old lady picked her up, her skin was cold, her eyes dull.

And the old lady hung her head and cried. Life and Death were unfair.