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Hovering

I could feel it coming, so close. Her eyes shut tight, so as not to let tears escape. I have detected her end for months, and I have gotten so close to touching her, grabbing her with all my might and shaking the life right out of her. But, it seems that she, her very self, has drained the life from her own body, so that all left is a pale, withered figure.

Her eyes are no longer the deep blue they were, no longer filled with innocence or care. Now they are an icy gray. So hollow that it would chill me to the bone if I had bones. I have seen many ends in my lifetime. Billions, in fact.

But only few end like this.

She popped open the bottle, as if allowing me, Death, to come and take her away. I hover so close I can smell her soapy smell. I can see past her paper-thin skin to her blue veins, branches of depression. And, in one motion, almost without hesitation, she swallows the capsules.

It is my time to shine.

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