What are you afraid of? I don't know. Those voices. Those sounds. But they can't hurt you, can they?
They might. You've got to face them some time. Must I? Brace up to it, old man. Chin up, and all that rot.
He sat down on the hard ground. He felt very much like crying. He felt as if life was over and he was entering new and unknown territory. It was such a deceiving day, with the sun warm; physically, he felt able and well, one might fish on such a day as this, or pick flowers or kiss a woman or anything. But in the midst of a lovely day, what did one get?
Death.
Well, hardly that.
Death, he insisted.
He lay down and closed his eyes. He was tired of messing around.
All right, he thought, if you are death, come get me. I want to know what all this damned nonsense is about.
Death came.