The following is a collection of nodoff writing, courtesy of Bethany Grindsler, whose own pass-time is writing for the Library.
Perhaps the saddest truth in the life of Death is that it can never truly find what it needs?
For all things, living, dead, and in between, seek out one they can truly call their own.
A lover, a friend, family. One they can hold close and embrace, one they can share everything with. One whose shoulder they can cry upon, when sorrow is all that surrounds.
But Death cannot hold the one it loves. It can never embrace or kiss or reassure.
For there are only two truths.
One, that all things seek love.
And two, that Death's touch means the end of all things, surely.