At Death's Door: A Short Story

It was a dark and stormy night, like something Edgar Allen Poe would have written about. Of course, he never would have phrased it that way. It’s way too cliché.

Don sat eating dinner while watching a hockey game when the doorbell rang. He furrowed his brow and wiped his mouth with a napkin. He checked the time as he walked to the door. He was not expecting anyone to come calling so late.

Don opened the door to a tall, dark, hooded figure.

The Tall Figure leaned his scythe against the house and hunched down; peering at Don with an investigative stare then looked at a clipboard that seemingly materialized out of nowhere.

He looked at Don, then back at the clipboard, then back at Don. A puzzled looked crept across his face, which was surprisingly expressive considering it was a skeleton.

I’M LOOKING FOR JOSH ACEVADA, The Tall Figure said.

The Tall Figure didn’t seem to talk, but instead, Don just heard the words in his head.

“There’s…there’s no Josh here.”  Don said after a long awkward moment.

The Tall Figure stretched his long neck to look past Don and then leveled his eyes with Don again. He let out a long sigh.

WOULD IT BE TOO MUCH TROUBLE IF I TOOK A LOOK AROUND?

Don didn’t answer.

IT’S JUST; I DO WORK THAT IS A BIT OF A…CERTAINTY.  PEOPLE OFTEN GO THROUGH GREAT LENGTHS TO AVOID IT.

Don still didn’t answer.

He slowly let out a long sigh then looked around his meager apartment. “I mean…I guess,” he finally said.

I’LL TRY NOT TO TAKE UP TOO MUCH OF YOUR TIME.

The Tall Figure walked into Don’s apartment and looked quickly into the kitchen, before moving toward the short hall that led to the bathroom.

IS THIS A NICE NEIGHBORHOOD? The Tall Figure asked, trying to alleviate the awkwardness that even he was feeling.

After a quick check in the bedroom, The Tall Figure walked back into the living room. He gave one last quick glance around the room. Satisfied with his search, The Tall Figure headed back to the door.

I APOLOGIZE FOR THE INTRUSION, he said. I DIDN’T THINK THAT YOU WERE HISPANIC, BUT I DIDN’T WANT TO ASSUME. I’VE MADE THAT MISTAKE BEFORE.

“You know what they say about assuming,” Don said weakly.

The Tall Figure stared blankly at Don.

“It makes an ass out of you and me.”

The Tall Figure worked it out in this head quickly. OH, THAT’S RICH, he said as he smirked and pointed a long bony figure at Don.

Don stood, unmoving as The Tall Figure wished him a good evening, then disappeared into the darkness.