Living Souls

The doorbell rang to the tune of rule Britannia.

She opened the door to a man dressed all in black.

She was waiting for the sales pitch

He broke into her thoughts. I’m not selling anything.

Well that’s a first, are you looking for something.

Yes, I’m looking for your soul.

Sounds like insurance to me.

No insurance, just your soul.

Don’t you have to be dead before your soul leaves you.

That’s why I’m here.

I don’t understand.

Dead souls are less powerful than living souls.

I’m twenty-seven, and as far I know I’m not going to die anytime soon.

This Friday at nine minutes past three you will die from a severe asthma attack.

I’m not listening to this crap, who the hell do you think you are. 

I’m your saviour.

You’re not any ones saviour, now what do you want.

You will have time to save yourself. As long as you say the words. ‘’Take My Soul.’’ Remember the words. ‘’Take My Soul.’’

Then he was gone.

She mentioned it to her husband that night.

It’s you love, you attract the weirdos

Yes, she did attract the weirdos, but it was just so strange

Friday at three she began to feel unwell, slowly struggling for breath. The inhaler didn’t seem to be working. She began to panic, slowly falling to the floor.

She could just make out the time on her phone, eight minutes past three. Suddenly she remembered the words,’’ Take my soul.’’ With her last breath the words came out. ‘’Take my soul.’’

She was preparing dinner when her husband walked in.

I see you're still alive, love.

Yes alive and kicking.

Have you done something to yourself, had your hair done, you look different.

No, just the same old me.

Think I’ll have an early night love I’m done in.

It was 3am when he began to struggle for breath.

The inhaler didn’t seem to be working. He began to panic falling onto the floor.

She noticed the time was 3.08am

Just in time to save him.

She whispered to herself.

Take my soul.

3.09am, he was dead.

It was a shame, but dead souls were less powerful than living souls.

He heard the loud knock, knock.

He opened the door to a woman dressed all in black

She broke into his thoughts. I’m not selling anything.

Reviews

[GrayHalwk]

Wow very imaginative and your writing touched me. Nice job. This is the 20th century and most writing is dead. And Boring but this was magical and I eat up every word.

[Paul Bell]

You don't want to be opening the door to this girl.

[Rania M]

Seems like a lot of marketing going on in the other world lol! Lovely careers await both of them down there. Good spooky effect :)

[Paul Bell]

Share index down below is boiling.

[Rania M]

Lol. Lets buy it all out then. Be billionaires in hell :)

[Paul Bell]

Just as i find a winner the world goes into meltdown and shares are plummeting.

[Rania M]

Yes. Time for sell out and exit :)
This is no time to invest :)

[Poetic Beauty]

Umm maybe this is how reapers are born/trained. Great story within this poem.

[Paul Bell]

On the job training, it's the best way to learn.

[Poetic Beauty]

Lol 😂 yes indeed

[jacob erin-cilberto]

the time for saving is in the moment...not after.
now his soul is in limbo...and he really wishes he'd been more polite when she knocked on the door.
And he left his wife eternally cooking for one.
j.

[Paul Bell]

He was well insured.