A Year of Stories (Collection Three)

Losing the Security Deposit

I can smell him before I hear the knock on the door, which isn't a good sign.

No time to worry about that though, and even if there was, these days it hurts to worry.

So instead of worrying I think, I think about the fact that whoever is at my door must be pretty darn clever to have tracked me here. Its been over two weeks since someone has managed that trick.

Another knock.

He's polite too.

"I'm not home..." my voice sounds like a grenade hit it, even to my own ears, another bad sign...

The door rattles, a fine shower of saw dust and wood chips coat the vinyl laminate, it won't be long now.

Unless I do something.

So I decide to do something, there is no point in losing the security deposit.

I leave the gun on the side table, unloaded and with the safety on, not like he would care.

Then I stand and walk and remove the deadbolt, all the while wishing my hands were shaking more than they are.

The door opens, rather it creeps, like the person on the other side is afraid of being shot or something.

Imagine.

I'm greeted by long black hair, cold grey eyes and breasts. Apparently I'd gotten my pronouns wrong, which on the great, big list of bad signs I've been compiling – rates somewhere in the top 10%.

"Can I help you?"

"You didn't shoot me."

"Didn't want to lose the security deposit, and what would be the point anyway? If you made it this far, it would have just been a waste of a perfectly serviceable bullet."

"Good choice, I'm coming in."

She pushes against the door, stronger than her whip thin frame has any right be. Stronger than I was a month ago. Fortunately, it's not a month ago. Today, we're at an impasse.

Poor door.

"Its been a terribly long day of sitting around waiting for my assassins. Would you mind coming back next week? I would be happy to let you try to kill me then, it would give me some time to stretch."

The door is going to break, which could get noisy. Noise has been a problem for me as of late, I relent and she pushes into my living room.

"Where is Jakob?"

"The young man with the spiky hair and stupid ear rings?"