Timeliness is next to...

“You don’t have an appointment.”

Bryan blinked, trying to get the feeling of overwhelming out of his eyes. “What?”

The man grunted, set down his pen on the counter, and peered over his large book at Bryan. “Heeew. You don’t have an appointment. People, bhuuuuuuw, only come here with an appointment.”

Bryan blinked again. It was like he had walked from the bright outdoors into a dark room; his head was light and he couldn’t make out much at first. Slowly his eyes started to adjust. He noticed the man was wizened, gold-rimmed glasses perched on his nose, white hairs popping out his nostrils and ears. The large book was aged and stately—like a giant encyclopedia. It was also completely at odds with the surrounding, which looked more like a dentist’s office.

“Where am I?” asked Bryan.

“Bwuh,” coughed the old man. “Have a seat. He’ll be with you shortly.” He returned to his book—maybe it was a ledger—and continued his careful scrawl.  “3:50,” he muttered.

Bryan took a seat in a cold seat with a direct view of the old man. I always have an appointment, he thought to himself. Only a moment later, a stern nurse appeared. Bryan assumed she was a nurse—she was wearing only white and had a Red Cross on her old fashioned hat. “Yes?” she said, looking at Bryan expectantly. “What are you doing here? Do you have an appointment?”

Now Bryan was nervous. Was he supposed to have an appointment? What if he had come all this way without even bothering to make an appointment? “Uuuuuh…” he managed.

“Appointments are very important here,” she clucked. “Well, come along then. We’ll fit you in.”

She made a quick turn on her heel and Bryan rushed up to scramble after her. She took him through a series of the double doors. “Achhhhew!” sneezed the old man in goodbye.

“Quickly now! Time is upon us!” said the nurse. Bryan’s gangly legs didn’t have a problem keeping up with her, but his mind was reeling. Appointment? Time? What had he forgotten? Everything important in his life was programmed in his iPhone and he should have received an alert if he had missed an appointment. He felt for his phone in his pocket and saw it was missing.

Panic seized him. No wonder he had forgotten! If he could just get his phone, he could at least find out what all this is about. “Excuse me,” he said. The nurse didn’t respond. “Excuse me, miss!” She turned sharply. “I’ve left my phone in the waiting room. May I go grab it?”

She sighed heavily and took a quick look at her watch. “All right. But I won’t have time to bring you to the appointment room. It’s just up this next hallway and to the right. Room 356. Can you get there?”

He nodded, eagerly. “Oh yes, I’ll be there in just a minute.”

She sharply nodded and walked away.

He hurried back to the waiting room. “Heeeeeeeew,” said the old man, but Bryan ignored him. He found his phone on the ground and grabbed it. There was an alert blinking on it. He rushed back to the hallway, tapping the screen, intent to figure out what this was all about.

Focused on his phone, pulling up the alert, he didn’t see the figure up ahead. Both unaware, they were nose to nose before Bryan looked up and averted the crash.

“Whoa!” said Bryan. The figure looked up started. It was a … man? Dark cloaked, face hidden by a cowl, he was unrecognizable. Yet an ice cold seized Bryan’s heart and he had a clue as to this man’s identity. The little scythe decorating his ballpoint pen gave a clue.

“Oh, excuse me!” said the dark figure, politely but hurriedly. “Sorry about that, but I’m running late and didn’t see where I was going.”

Bryan nodded, frozen.

The man pushed past him, hurriedly. Bryan heard him mutter to himself, “Ok, room.. 356. Room three-fiiiiiive-six. Honestly, how do they expect me to keep taking these extra cases? I’m only unhuman.”

Bryan heard the door to 356 open and close as he looked down at the alert on his phone. It told him exactly what he already knew: “Appointment with Death. 3:50 p.m.”

-A.F.

First line credit, David Cramer