"I hope I wasn't too difficult to find?" The young lady in the carriage did her best not to fidget. She smoothed her skirts over her knees, saw that her gloves were neatly folded in her lap, and restrained herself from reaching up to be sure that her hair remained neatly under her bonnet.
THAT IS REALLY NEVER AN ISSUE, replied the tall, black-robed figure sitting across from her. It was his carriage, and the horse in front of it shone in a beautiful, living white colour, and seemed deeply irritated to be hitched to something, rather than riding free. I CAN EASILY FIND ANYONE I NEED TO FIND. ALTHOUGH YOU COULD HAVE WAITED AT THE INN. YOUR FEET WOULD HAVE GOTTEN LESS WET AND MUDDY.
"I know, I simply felt the need to walk," the young lady replied. Outside of the carriage window passed trees, and then suddenly no longer trees but endless fields of golden grain. "Have you been particularly busy of late?"
I AM DEATH, the robed figure replied, simply. I AM ALWAYS BUSY, AS WELL YOU KNOW.
"Yes," said the young lady, her face sobering. "I do." She hesitated and then said, "I have a great many questions I wish to ask you."
YES, I KNOW. Death nodded. YOU UNDERSTAND THAT I CANNOT ANSWER ALL OF THEM. AND EVEN THOSE THAT I MAY ANSWER, THERE ARE MANY FACTS ON WHICH I WILL REQUIRE YOUR PROMISE OF SECRECY.
"I appreciate your taking the time for me at all," the young lady said, as the carriage pulled to a halt.
WELL, said Death. YOU WROTE A VERY LOVELY POEM.