Forever After - By David Jester Page 0,41

woman and he certainly couldn’t alter the course of her life for the worst. As a reaper he was there as their first stop on an unknown journey, an important part of their eternity but one which couldn’t effect their existence ether way.

It hadn’t always been that way, even since that fateful night when he gave up his own ticket to that unknown land in exchange for immortality. A girl, a beautiful girl, had changed him. After meeting her nothing had ever felt the same.

2

The night Michael Holland met the girl that changed his new life; he was hunched solemnly over a pint of cheap cider. He had been sitting in the same spot for a couple of hours, his slumped posture cutting a depressed figure on the corner seat of the corner table in the quiet pub.

He had been nursing the same pint for over an hour. A small fly had flown in at one point, possibly when he was in the bathroom, he wasn’t sure; he didn’t care.

He brought the glass to his lips and stared at the wallowing fly. It beat a buoyant path on the edge of the flat drink, its wings draped by its side in a soggy crucifix. He grimaced and took a long drink, consuming the cider-drenched fly in the process.

He raised his eyes for the first time in twenty minutes, and what he saw nearly caused him to choke on the fermented fly.

The pub was all but empty when he had arrived. It was Friday, mid-afternoon: too early for pub crawlers and weekend drinkers, too late for those stopping by for a lunchtime drink. Other than the bartender -- a gruff, abrupt man who spoke in a succession of grunts -- there was one customer in the pub: a stereotype of the perpetual elderly drunk who has nothing better to do but while away his final days slowly drinking strong ale and perusing the betting form.

The elderly man was still there, fading into the shadows at the back -- his first pint of ale still clutched in the arthritic fist of his right hand, the heavily scribbled betting form in his left -- but there were now two women at the bar. The sight of them had failed to cheer up the grunting bartender, but it had certainly piqued Michael’s interests. He straightened up, kicked the hump out of his fatigued body, and leaned back. Trying to look casual and cool.

The women talked happily to each other. The shorter of the two, with long curly blonde hair, a tight figure and large hips, gave her orders to the bartender and leaned on the bar whilst she waited. The other girl seemed much more timid, she spoke with a soft chime, her voice barely travelling the fifteen or so feet to where Michael sat. She had fiery red hair which cascaded down to the middle of her back, and deep, dark, intelligent eyes.

The red haired girl was facing Michael as she spoke to her friend. She caught his eye a few times -- a sheepish, shy look on her dimpled smile. There was a brief, instinctive twitch in her features when she caught him looking at her.

They took their drinks and shuffled away from the bar. Michael heard the softly spoken red head say something to her friend, acknowledging him with a furtive glance in the process; they exchanged a giggle and then took their seats.

Michael drained the cider in his glass, waited for a few moments -- stealing a glance in the process -- and then sauntered confidently over to their table.

He had been dead for a year and had spent that time trying to become accustomed to his newfound existence, but he still had the charm he possessed when he was alive. Within minutes he had them at ease in his presence and before long he had learned everything he wished to know about the beautiful redhead.

Her name was Jessica and she was twenty-two. She was a law student attending college in the area, out for a few drinks with her friend before retiring for an early night. She was soft mannered, intelligent, passionate and humorous. He fell for her instantly and there was a suggestion in her eyes that she felt the same way about him.

They spoke for an hour. He addressed them both at first, not wanting to alienate her friend -- a dominant and standoffish girl with suspicious eyes -- but after an hour of idle chatter she