Time (31/01/2007 15:41)
I think i may currently be residing in the Department where bloggers go to be frustrated. Div 3 Dep 13 now contains myself, shy and webvictim - all three of us active bloggers. Is there a higher density of blogger to non blogger in any other division? I think not! We also have adib - who could blog more if he wished to!
Due to a very busy few weeks where i have
I have not this week got a proper entry for you. I feel it in my waters that my ongoing story may well continue at a more rapid pace from now on, but in the mean time here is a stop gap to be going on with.
The text below is a short story i didn't enter into competition. (I entered a different one.)
The theme was "TIME" and it could be no more than 500 words. Here it is. Hope you like! As always, comments, thoughts etc appreciated muchly!
Au revoir my friends
It was six-thirty when Jack Miller, halfway through his second bacon-double-cheeseburger, was interrupted by the sudden appearance of Death in his front room. This was a surprise for Jack, partly because the sky had turned black and the clocks had stopped, but mostly because the figure of Death was not what he would have expected.
Death, dusting himself down and peering around the room, was in fact a short, balding rotund man of middle age, wearing an ill fitting, crumpled grey suit.
‘Can I help you?’ asked Jack timidly.
‘Jack Miller?’ asked Death, his eyes squinting at a small notepad.
‘I’m Death. I have come to take you to the afterlife,’ Death replied in a bored tone ‘if you wouldn’t mind coming with me…’
‘What? Why?’ spluttered Jack.
‘That’s what must be, Mr Miller. Look, I’m rather pushed for time’ he peered at Jack over the notepad and gestured to the spot beside him.
‘But I’m not dead!’ exclaimed Jack in horror. Death frowned. He closed his notepad and sat down next to Jack.
‘That is very true, Mr Miller,’ Death began, wriggling into a comfortable position. ‘But then, I’m working on something of a project that I thought you might be able to help me with.’
Jack stared open mouthed into the round, frowning face of Death, into dull grey eyes, wrinkles of tiredness creasing away from the corners.
‘It’s like this,’ said Death, running his hand across his forehead. ‘I’m overworked, seriously so. Do you know how frequently you people die? It’s one every couple of seconds. Even with the ability to slow time to a crawl, it still moves on, I never get a break. It’s constant work.’ Jack looked confusedly at Death.
‘Well, that’s not very nice, but I’m not sure I’m really the right person to help you out,’ said Jack
‘If I was asking you to do anything, that would be true, but in this circumstance, all I want from you is your time,’ replied Death.
‘How much, exactly?’ asked Jack. He gestured to his burger ‘I mean, I’m pretty busy and…’
‘Twenty-five years, give or take,’ Jack’s mouth gaped again. ‘You see,’ continued Death, resting a hand on Jack’s shoulder, ‘You don’t do anything, you never have, you never will. If I can get a few more procrastinators like you ahead, a window opens up and I can have a holiday in twenty-five years time.’
‘You want me to die now, early, so you can have a holiday?’
‘Yes – what do you say?’
A few moments later, as the clocks started up and the sky brightened, Jack knew he had made the right choice. He now knew he had twenty-five years to change his life. He wouldn’t put things off anymore, no more laziness. Death had given him the gift of time, rather than the other way round, and he would make the most of it. Or he would in a bit. Maybe. Right after he finished his burger.
(if you read this far, this may be of interest....http://www.managerleague.com/blogperma.pl?id=440)
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