Living the Afterlife, a Death and Chronos flash fiction collection Page 4

they’d had.

  “Thank you. Sorry about poking you. I’ve had a rough day.”

  “Had to call Atropos again, huh?” Lucien shuddered and looked sympathetic.

  Chronos waited until Lucien changed back before starting the flow of time again. He and Death stayed for the concert, each reliving the moment in time. Afterwards, they stopped for a snack before returning home.

  “Do you miss that kind of life?” Chronos watched his friend drumming on the table between tosses of M&Ms into an eye socket.

  “Not really. Now that I remember, it was fun at the time but I wouldn’t want a steady diet of it. After all, who’d want to end up looking like Keith Richards?”

  Chronos laughed. “You did play some killer drums, as I remember.”

  “You weren’t so bad on the guitar yourself. You did have some timing issues though, as I recall.” Death dropped his jaw and swung his arm around his friend. “Let’s get back to our own time and pull out the Parcheesi board, old man.”

  Lofty Pursuits

  The spires of the glass building rose high into the sky, the sun kissing the many facets until it seemed to be crafted from crystal. A bit ostentatious, Lucien thought, but where else would one expect God to conduct business?

  The outside elevator certainly impressed visitors with its showy view of the rolling landscape while climbing up to the 981st floor of the tower. Lucien spent the time staring at the horizon without really seeing it. He wondered if his appointment would be kept this time. The secretary who made it assured him it would but that’s what they always said. They seemed to enjoy toying with him for some reason.

  When he exited the elevator, Lucien found himself staring down a hallway into infinity. He knew it to be an illusion, but the first time he’d come up here he’d tried to follow it and had been lost for two days. After that mishap, he’d learned the correct route before returning.

  Lucien peeked into empty offices as he wandered down the hall. Everyone was gone for the evening, nothing to see but tidy desks and empty chairs. The break room had the only bit of personality in this place. A bulletin board with the usual flotsam tacked onto it rested on one wall, notices of potlucks jostled for space along with employee benefits and words of wisdom. Another wall held a picture of the employee of the month.

  “Why would anyone want to work here?” Lucien murmured aloud. His words echoed back at him.

  Enough of this. He had an appointment to keep. Lucien turned right at the corner and into a side corridor. Finally turning down a thickly carpeted private hall, he came to a door carved with cherubs and seraphim. The guard in front of it had his massive arms folded, barring Lucien’s entrance.

  “Is your boss in? I have an appointment.”

  “You know She won’t see you, Lucien.”

  He shrugged, his teeth clamped in a grin around a cigar. “No harm in trying is there? One of these days She might change Her mind.”

  “I’m sure it will be a cold day in Hell when She does.” Michael folded his wings into a more relaxed stance, a smile gracing his face. “But how are you doing? Sorry I’ve missed the last few poker nights; work’s been a real grind.”

  “I’ve been great. I see you made employee of the month again.”

  Michael nodded, a smile on his face. “Third time this year.”

  “We’re getting together for a game after hours this Friday,” Lucien said. “Think you can come?”

  “I wouldn’t miss it. I’ll see you then. Now, get out of here.”

  After Hours

  3 A.M. No chance of any hapless customer wandering into the entrance of Hell, so the pool table at Lucien’s Bar transformed into a poker round. Clotho sat between Death and Michael; Lucien, Chronos and War took the other spots.

  The bartender took everyone’s order, returning with peanuts, chocolates, carrot sticks and sardines.

  The game had been lively, a progressive back and forth of winners, when War threw down his cards in disgust.

  “You’re cheating again, Lucien!”

  “Of course he is,” Clotho said. She gently nudged a mouthful of feathers away with a mute apology to Michael and lit her own slim cigar. “You’re such a poor sport.”

  Chronos felt something caressing his leg, winding its way up under his robe. It was quite pleasant—and distracting—but he wasn’t sure if it was harmful or not.

  “Lucien, is something under the table with us?”

  “Oh, that’s just Jezebel. Is she playing with you?”

  Chronos knocked his chair over backward trying to stand up. “You didn’t tell me she was here. I would have worn undergarments.”

  “Sorry. I didn’t know you were Scottish.”

  “Come here, sweetheart.” Death reached down and plucked the creature up, winding her around his neck. “No flesh for you to sink your tentacles into.”

  The creature’s eyes flashed red but settled down once Death grabbed a sardine out of War’s bowl of munchies and popped it into her mouth. She soon fell asleep on his clavicle, her tentacles winding around his ribs for balance.

  “So, are you in?” Michael grinned over at War, who grumbled but picked his cards back up and tossed a chip into the pot.

  Trying hard to focus on the game and not on how close he’d come to being maimed, Chronos studied his cards.

  “Time, the rest of us haven’t got a lot of it,” Clotho chided. “Are you going to play?”

  “Oh, sorry. I’m in.” He tossed a chip and watched it hover in the air. The hourglass on his belt had a tentacle wrapped around it, causing time to sputter and spurt. He sighed and bit into a carrot stick for distraction.

  “That does it for me,” Michael said. He laid down a full house and started to reach for the pile of chips. “It’s almost dawn. Back to work.”

  “Not so fast,” Clotho said. She spread out a royal flush with a triumphant smile. “Pay up, Lucien.”

  He gritted his teeth and signaled the bartender. A box appeared in her hands. She leaned over and gave him an air kiss before throwing a thread and traveling out.

  Death chuckled at Evil’s look of consternation. “What are you going to do when your stock of Sumerian cigars run out?”

  Lucien groaned. “Quit inviting her to play poker, I guess.”

  Turn Back the Clock

  “Great news, my friend.” Death bounced onto the sofa with child-like glee after walking in the door.

  Chronos sloshed the cup of tea he’d been holding while reading the paper when a femur struck him. He shook his head and smiled at Death’s enthusiasm for life.

  “What momentous thing has happened this time?”

  “I have an appointment in a few minutes,” Death said. “Come with me and I’ll tell you all about it.”

  They arrived inside of a nursing home. The recreation room held a number of residents who called out greetings to Thanatos with great grim humor. Chronos looked around with interest as Death shook hands with people, working the room like a politician looking for votes. He wondered who was to be the collection.

  “Who are you here to collect?” Chronos asked after several minutes of socializing went by.

  “No one. I just stop in each week to visit. They consider me an old friend around here. But let me tell you about my news. Cleopatra has consented to finally go out with me.”

  “What made her change her mind after all these centuries?” Chronos knew she’d rebuffed Death many times.

  “Well, my friend, that’s where you come in. I need a small favor. See, I told her about the androids in the beach bar, the time you traveled 200 years into the future? She said she’d like to go there with me. I need a couple of grains of sand from you to take her, though.”

  “Oh, no. Don’t you remember what happened the last time I gave you some? You dropped them on the border between France and England.”

  Death shrugged and tossed a peanut in the air, catching it in his eye socket.

  “I don’t think the British mind being an island. They should
have called it the Thanatos Channel though. Besides, I’m only asking for two grains this time. You have millions of them. Please?”

  “I know I’m going to regret this.” Chronos fumbled with his hourglass as he muttered dire consequences for any future mishaps.

  He fished out two grains of sand and placed them on Death’s outstretched metacarpals. One grain promptly fell to the floor and Chronos dove for it. A metal walker leg tromped on his hand while an orthopedic shoe stepped on the tiny speck.

  Chronos and Death both froze as the wizened benefactor blossomed into a beauty, shaving sixty years off her age in an instant. Bemused, they watched the lithesome woman march out the front door dressed only in a housecoat and support hose flopping about her ankles.

  “That one doesn’t count, does it?” Chagrin colored Death’s voice.

  Chronos laughed. “No, but why don’t I put them in your pocket for you? That way you’ll know where they are when you’re ready to use them.”

  “A timely suggestion.” Death linked arms with Chronos as they left, shouts of farewell following their exit.

  Death on Wheels

  The rumbling started just as Chronos propped his feet up on the coffee table to settle in for a bit of TV. Startled, he glanced around the room but couldn’t find the source of the noise.

  As it grew louder, he could feel the vibration through the soles of his feet when he stood up. The hourglass on the credenza shook, scattering time in waves that would affect the mortal population on Earth.

  Something was coming—something big.

  Just as the noise reached an unbearable level, the double doors to his house flew open of their own volition.