[ WP ] One day , you find Death weeping on a park bench .

She should have known better. Her mother always told her to be careful of strangers, but she also told her to always try to help people in need. Seeing the ragged man, stooped across the street, his face held in thin white hands, the little girl followed the latter. 
 
 
 She darted across that road. Her ears confirmed what her eyes could already see; she could hear the thin man sobbing softly beneath his dark black robes. Coming closer, she saw what might have been a walking stick laying across his lap. 
 
 
 `` Is everything okay Mister?'' she asked with a smile as bright as the sun. 
 
 
 `` No,'' the man said with a growl in his voice. He looked up from his palms, a rictus yet oddly soft grin peeking from his hood. 
 
 
 The girl looked up into that pale, hollow face. Halloween was still weeks away. `` What's wrong?'' 
 
 
 `` There is a thing I must do, though it pains me to do it.'' 
 
 
 The girl scrunched her face, `` Is it hard?'' 
 
 
 `` Some say it is, though it is a thing that must be done, and there is none but me to do it.'' 
 
 
 `` Mom says when you have to do something hard you just have to give it your best!'' she balled her tiny fist and showed a fighting face. `` Mom says it gets easier the more you try.'' 
 
 
 `` Will it?'' the man said more than asked. He tried to straighten himself but still slouched despite this. 
 
 
 The girl could hear a sob get caught in the dark man's gravely voice. Her mouth bent down at the corners, curved like a waning moon. How could she help him be less sad? Looking again at his walking stick she saw the long blade and could feel, even at a distance, how sharp it was. She told herself to be careful of it, then realized she was already cut.
