D.H.

It's 6am on a tuesday morning and I'm still in bed. Last night's coding session went pretty well, I'm almost done with all the classes I need for my app. Phone rings and its Moose:

"Hey, Moose gets loose...watta guan?"

"Why you still dey bed?....ei brodas"

"Oh naa, i just dey lie down."

"Chale the book club thing wassup? E go be anaa?"

"Yea, yea everything is all set, just make sure the others get a text reminding them of the place and time"

"Ok, i go do.Abi e be your there naa we go do for?" "

"Yea"

"Vim...see you in the evening then."

"Sure"

I slowly drag myself out of bed and walk over to my mirror. I seem more heavyset than i was a couple of months ago....taller too. Oh well I've got to start preparing for work or I just might be uber late today. Don't think boss man will be too pleased with that.

Fastforward to 7pm and Moose is already here with a couple of other people. I do a count and we are 7 in total. Perfect.

We are all seated having virgin pina colladas and arguing about whether The Similarion was better than The Hobbit and I must say some good points are being made for both books. Out of nowhere the young model-type looking lady remarks that she can't feel her legs. We all burst out in laughter but that dies down once Moose also remarks he can't also feel his. In fact everyone seated seems paralyzed.

The looks of horror on their faces is priceless. I have the biggest grin on my face right about now. That kind of mad cheshire cat grin which conjures up thoughts of mischief and evil. I decide to speak up.

"I don't know if any of you noticed the slightly bitter almond after taste in your drinks"

Almost in unison they reply:

"Yea, that's true"

"Well that's cyanide. That and a cocktail of other drugs to slowly dull your senses and to put you to sleep. Permanently."

They all looked shocked now. Moose speaks up and asks:

"Oh, chale but why?...what we do you?"

Before I could reply, the lights start dimming and it gets cold. Really cold.

We are not alone anymore. In the corner of the room sits an odd looking man. He's dressed in a black t-shirt and jeans wearing a tophat. There are two words printed on his t-shirt; "D.H.".

He carefully pulls out a book and flips it open, looking at each one of us in the face whiles turning the pages. I sit there transfixed but I suddenly remember what I have to do.

I speak out in a low clear voice "Absolam's crow flies without rest". He replies in a raspy voice that seems to come out of another time "But yet it perches on my soul"

He walks over and carefully hands me the book in his hands, and without a word turns round and walks back to the corner of the room, fading with each step.

I look down at the book only to notice I now have on a shirt that has "D.H." printed on it. I look at the others and realize they're still alive.

Standing up I say with the remnants of a giggle in my voice and that cheshire cat grin on my face "I will come for you guys later. A lot later than I actually should"

Walking over to my room I pick up my white fedora from my bed and grab my Ray Ban's. I head outside into the night with my fedora and Ray Ban's on, plus the book tucked safely under my arm.

Seems I forgot to tell them what the "D.H." on my shirt means. I smile again, repeating the words softly to myself ; "Death Himself".

I keep walking, whistling Kavinsky's "Nightcall" to myself.