“What-” he started to say before he noticed the commotion on the other end of the lobby. Where he could swear, they were sitting just seconds ago. He looked hard at Nick with a questioning gaze.

Nick merely shrugged, “I told you that you should not have had that last one.”

Tim shot up and walked over to the commotion. There were several EMTs huddled around someone. Funny, he thought he did not remember an ambulance pulling in; but, sure enough, he looked up to see one with its lights on sitting in the parking lot. He edged closer. 

He saw himself lying on the floor. He heard as the EMTs talked to each other.

“No pulse!”

“TRY AGAIN!” Time heard himself screaming. But no one seemed to have noticed.


Tim looked over and saw Nick still calmly sitting, sipping on his coffee.

He rushed over and looked at him, ‘Nick, what in god’s name is going on?”

Nick looked over at Tim and merely gave a sad smile. 

“You’re dead.”

Tim sank back into the chair in front of him, “But…”

Nick sat his cup down, “You just had a massive heart attack.” 

Tim looked hard at him, “How come I can talk to you. How come you can see me?”

Tim stopped and looked at Nick, “Who or what are you?”

“Nikolai Stewart. We’ve known each other for years.”

Tim made an angry face, “I know that. What are you?”

Nick nodded, “Spiritual Collections.”

Tim looked at him confused, “what?”

Nick sighed, “This was getting old,” he thought, “I can’t wait until the next team meeting. The new titles could use some work.”

He looked over at the EMTs as they hoisted Tim’s body onto a stretcher. He looked at Tim, “I am here to take your soul on to the afterlife.”

Nick shrugged, “I guess you could call me death.”

Tim made a shocked face and gave a nervous laugh. “You’re the Grim Reaper?”

Nick looked at his cell phone and glanced at the time. “Not ‘the’ Grim Reaper, but yes, we used to have the titles of the Reaper.”

“Used to?”

Copyright 2014-2021 Kohl Media Solutions. All Rights Reserved.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

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