Dreamscapes and Cupcakes
The trio looked over to see a nondescript man putting down his cup, “for nearly two years I have been waiting for my story to be finished. Hell Brainiac here hasn’t even given me a name.”
He stood up to leave, “So there I am, in the middle of a space battle with asteroid belt pirates, my helmsmen dead, me leaping over to the control panel to fire back, and nothing.”
He put on a tattered jacket, “either kill me, make me a hero, at this point, I do not care. Just finish it for Pete’s sake.” He too then walked toward the exit.
Subdued, Kohl looked back at the other two. “Okay, for a moment. The very briefest of moments that I actually believe that this is really happening.
What do you want?”
Nick Stewart looked at Miles Kohl, “Not us. The boss.”
Kohl’s eyebrow went up in confusion, “Death wants to talk… to me.”
Stewart to a swig from a cup; he shook his head.
“In the flesh,” a voice called out.
Kohl looked around to see himself once again in his classroom. This time, there was an older gentleman sitting at his desk and Kohl found himself in one of the student desks.
“Hades?” Kohl asked again. The old man merely nodded and went back to staring at the computer screen.
“This won’t do,” Hades said looking at one of the files, he looked up at Kohl is a questioning look, “Susan Dayton was kneeling over the stone she had spent the better part of an hour carefully removing the dirt from. She rubbed the sweat from her forehead. Who knew you could sweat in Northern Scotland, she thought with a laugh. “
“Mr. Kohl,” Hades said, “Miles, can I call you Miles?
Kohl just nodded weakly.
“Miles, I hope this is not an attempt at romance. Stick to sci-fi. It just will not do. Delete.”
Kohl started to say something but was cut off with a point of the finger by Hades as he opened another file. “Douglas paced around the office,” Hades read aloud, ” taking in the décor of his host. He noted the paintings and personal pictures. As a psychiatrist, he felt that how the man surrounded himself was just as, if not more, important than what he said in a meeting. The décor is a window to the soul, he mused. Not one to make house calls, this was one he felt the need to take.”
Hades shook his head sadly, “I appreciate your desire to bore people to death, and it makes for steady business for me. But come on, even I felt my life draining out of me at that one. And you are outta here.”
Kohl just stared on with astonishment. What was the proper etiquette for defending years of work to Hades, he thought, can you tell him to go to hell?
“Well you can,” Hades replied reading his thoughts, “but when YOU get to the afterworld, I tend to hold grudges. Oh, this one is good.”
Hades nodded happily, “Some of these are good, and now I need you to do something.”
Kohl was not sure what to do at that point, so he just kept quiet.
He took the moment to take a good look at Hades, he looked to be about six-four or six-five. His hair and his goatee were black with the spattering of white here and there to add a bit of maturity. He was dressed in a black suit without a tie.
“See, you have talent, but you are squandering it.” Hades stood up, “so your homework assignment is to finish a book. I do not care if you finish Mackenzie’s story, Talk about Stewart, or deal with any of the other characters running around in your head. But finish one!”
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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.