If the world of the living were a suit of clothes and the world of the dead the bony flesh beneath, then at each elbow there would be a cemetery gate.
Here the dead rub up against the living world.
Here the living world wears thin.
Yehuda Leib and Bluma have seperate, unexpected meetings with The Dark One: Death. Meetings which push them on journeys far from their homes across the Far Country - the world of the dead . . .