The bell tolled. Once. Twice. Thrice.​

"It is coming" someone said.​

Silence fell, dark and heavy, like a black marble slab. Then the horses were heard, trotting on the silence, trotting on black marble, unseen in the mist, but inevitably closer with every echoing hoof. Sobs and cries were muffled, some shivered, some just starred. someone made a nervous joke. Then it came and all parted like sheep before the watchdog and the Carriage stopped in the middle of them.​

There was nothing special about the carriage, no ornament or decoration to justify the deep, primordial fear that loomed over everyone. Just black wood on black leather held by black metal. Nor was the driver monstrous or threatening. An old man, he seemed, so slim that he was almost lost under his black coat. He wore a tall black hat and his eyes looked tired and almost sad as they turned with certainty among the crowd and simply nodded towards someone.​

It was a jolly man that cought the nod. Even now he smiled, genually and even understadingly, as those around him took just a small step away from him, by instinct. "It's alright" he said and a woman next to him sobbed, while a young man cursed and a little lady denied. "It's alright" he said again and kissed the three, whispering private words to each of them. He moved to the carriage, still smiling, even making a joke as he passed by friends.​

Mikael couldn't hold on any longer. He pushed the crowd, shoved his way to the carriage and stood under the driver.​

"Where do you take him?" He screamed. "Where do you take all of them?" The driver just looked at him, unflinching, unblinking, unmoved.​

"There are others! Older, readier, lonelier! He has family, he is needed! How do you choose? It is unfair!"​

"There is no choice" the driver spoke softly yet firmly, answering to the accusation of millenia. "I do not choose. I just come."​

"But..."​

But the jolly man was in and the driver knew. He looked ahead and the horses moved, their trot echoing once more among the twisted streets of the Village. The Carriage left, the crowd parted and left for their homes.​

The bell tolled. Once. Twice. Thrice. In fairwell.

 

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​From "The Carriage" by one mr. F.R.