Seven Days of Love

A dark figure draped in a cloak appeared beside me.

His voice was as cold as a winter wind in the dead of January.

Piercing, deathly silent.

“The seven days are up. Let’s go.”

I followed him, walking up the stairs step by step.

My body, my limbs, my entire being.

Gradually, they faded away.

Goodbye, my short and miserable life.

Huh, why do I feel a little—

Reluctant to leave?