Popular belief has it that the universe is comprised of atoms. In reality, the universe is actually made up of…

According to the superstitious urban legend passed down by fishwives, it was said that when Death first approached its victim, the person felt it in their soul in much the same manner as arthritic joints could sense a change in the weather, but such was not the case for Millie Poole.

She felt the much-feared arrival in her chest, as if her heart was a charcoal briquette coated with lighter fluid anxiously awaiting the spark of the Grim Reaper’s fiery embrace.

“That is because true love has been absent from your young heart,” said an ethereal voice, light as a feather, that tickled her ears to hear it. “But no longer, for I truly love you and the life you offer up so that I might continue my eternal existence.”

And so it was that Death came to her, but not in the foretold dread, fury or pain. Instead, it was kind and gentle and oh so sweet, and it filled the essence of her being with an amazing peace that Millie had never ever known in life.