A metronomic clack of hard leather soles emanated from pavement behind me. It was a still and quiet night. The streets had been long abandoned for the evening. So when the time between those impacts into the sidewalk became shorter and louder, I knew I was being pursued.
“Run, or turn and confront my pursuer.” That was the thought that ran through my mind.
I wheeled about to find a man. He was old but exuded spryness. His long hair and beard were white. He stopped and peered into my eyes with the most soul-penetrating stare.
“Why are you following me?” I asked indignantly.
“I’m afraid I am the bearer of bad tidings. You have been selected, and have only a short time left in this life. I shall see you again…soon.” The old man said in an unusual, but exactingly spoken, accent that matched his meticulous attire.
The old man spun about and walked off, disappearing into a deep shadow.
“What a crazy old man!” I thought, but then, “He didn’t seem crazy.”