An Old Story - a short story written by Victoria Battman

 An Old Story

Death, Guilt, Disappointed were 3 friends who travelled the earth. They wore dark cloaks and rode black horses and were quite frankly cliqued!

“Guys, guys, shall we stop? I need to adjust my cloak.” said Death.

“Oh here we go.” said Guilt.

“No, no,” said Death in a hurried voice. “It will only take a moment.”

“Do you sometimes feel,” Disappointed chipped in, “that we are just wasting our time with these humans?  They seem to come back from whatever we throw at them.”

“Well yes maybe.” Said Death who looked excited at an idea he was having “We could get Famine to join us.”

“I think he’s retired.” said Guilt.

“Has he?”

 Death looked puzzled.

 “I still feel he’s hard at work with all those African plains, little children, surplus population, as someone once put it.”

Disappointed looked at his two companions, not really friends even though they had travelled far and wide for centuries together. More like irritations, boils on his bum, he smirked.

“Ready? We’ve got to be in Bishop Cannings for 6 o’clock.”

“Yes.” they both said. “Ready.”

The family arrived home from the hospital feeling optimistic.   It had been a good visit. Their Mum had fallen in the garden during a family BBQ. It had been a bright sunny day, warm, with family and friends until Mum had taken a wrong step and fallen hard on the concrete.

An ambulance had been called and a broken shoulder had been the outcome. But was there was more to it than that.  She had seemed wobbly on her feet, drunk almost, but she didn’t drink and she was a fit woman.

She had been on her own for a few years after their father had a heart attack, funnily enough at a family BBQ.

Disappointed got there first. He entered the back door and seeped into the conversation.

“Why didn’t it work this time?” This was the first question asked by number one son.

 “I don’t know.” said his sister, “but I am getting desperate.  The bailiffs came last week.”

Death hovered outside.             

“I think I’m needed elsewhere.” And then he disappeared.

Inside the house the phone rang, it was the hospital.               

“I’m sorry,” said the nurse, “she seemed ok. We tried everything to bring her back, but we, well, I’m sorry I can’t explain it. We  will have to have an investigation.”

At that, there was a knock on the door. Out of the window they could see the white and blue of a police car.

Guilt made his grand entrance!

The trial was a blur. The jury had a lot of sympathy for the brother and sister, the baby boomer mother, a lovely bungalow, debts to be paid by the two accused, each of the jurors could relate to this predicament.

But what of our three friends? What did they make of this situation? 

An everyday occurrence maybe a test of human endurance, definitely a test.