Monday, 5 February 2018

The Black Car

The black car pulled up to the curb, silently waiting. Normal people wouldn't have noticed it, unless they were placing flyers. But I knew what it was.

I took my time finishing my coffee, as I considered my options. I could try running, but there were stories about that. I could run through the stages, but that didn't seem productive.

Instead I finished my last ever coffee, stood up, sent a text to my wife, telling her that I loved her, then got into the car.

Death looked at me, confused. He checked his notes and reached for a phone.

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