It was sometime before or after noon... The Old Man had lost track of time. He sat on his front porch with dirt - formerly mud - stuck to his shoes. He looked to the sky, watching the clouds draped over his land, when he suddenly noticed a black figure that had been heading towards him from one end of the field.
"Is that who I think it is?" He muttured to himself.
Yes, it was.
Death soon came to The Old Man's porch and stopped at the base of its steps.
"Is it that time already?" The Old Man asked.
"Indeed it is," Death replied.
The Old Man leaned down to scrape some dirt off of one shoe before he slowly rose from his chair. He let out an exhausted sigh as he stood.
"May I have a moment?" He asked.
"No." Death replied.
The Old Man sighed once more and nodded. He stepped down from the porch and stood to face Death. Death reached out, and as the old man followed suit, his hand stopped midway.
"You're coming with me either way," Death reminded him.
"Yeah, yeah..." The Old Man reluctantly clasped hands with Death, who led him away from his home.
"Don't worry about it," Death said while pulling The Old Man close, "It happens to everyone."