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Guest Appearance
What an evening. Dinner for two by candlelight. Rose oil drifts on the air. We finished dessert some time ago; white chocolate cheese cake with a raspberry coulis. Then I look down the table toward my husband and realise we are not alone. Robert looks at me, uneasiness in his eyes.
"Who are you?" I manage to squeeze the words up the narrowing passage of my throat.
He steps from the shadows and his perfection is like a blow to the chest. I suck in air but there is none. The room grows frigid and I can see puffs of air jerking from Robert’s mouth. The stranger walks to the table. My shoulders sag under the cloud of despair that descends as he sits between us.
"What do you want?" Robert whispers, never looking at this uninvited guest.
"Don’t you know who I am, Carla?" His voice is terrible. That he knows my name makes me weep.
"Who are you?" There is a shade of anger in Robert’s voice now.
"Don’t." I whisper. Which one I am speaking to is unclear.
"Carla knows, Carla invited me in when she laced your coulis with arsenic."
"Please..."
"What is he talking about, Carla?"
"I am Death, Robert. We are well met by candlelight, methinks. Do not look so stricken, you will not be lonely. Carla was less than circumspect with the utensils. Two for the price of one! Oh I do like a bargain."
