Is death always watching and waiting for the right time to claim our lives? Are we always in its shadow from the moment we are born to the last moment?

There are all sorts of people in the face of death as it knows no age or gender? Is it the ultimate just player in this world?

Are these people afraid or oblivious; is it done intentionally that we choose to forget about it to be able to move on with our lives?

Are these people all united because of death? Does it have this power to destroy but unite at the same time?

Write a short story, or a poem about what you can discern from this painting and share a link to your story with us here on Danny B. You can be generous and share a link to this writing prompt on your website or your social media.

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