Deferred

 

The rain backed off after pounding Toronto for most of the day. Inside a dingy bungalow, a family sat down to a supper of pumpkin soup with a salad on the side. The smell of fresh baked peanut butter cookies filled the air.

The twins argued with their dad about the future of the Raptors without DeRozan. Kate guided a spoonful of soup to her mouth and missed for the nth time daubing more yellow stuff over her chubby cheeks. The timer went off. Gayle Murphy got up to get the cookies from the oven.

Just then, there was a thunderous knock at the door. Gayle glanced at Barry as if to say are you expecting anyone? He shrugged and was about to get up but Gayle waved him down “Don’t bother Hon, I’m already up, I’ll get it.”

She opened the door to find a tall figure, blackrobed, towering over her with a scythe in one bony hand and a clipboard in the other.

“It’s you! Well, you’re early!”

The figure, taken off guard by the aplomb of this woman, glanced at the clipboard. He’d just botched one job and really couldn’t afford to mess this one up. He looked down at Gayle and saw the look of disdain on her face.

“This is the address of Kate Murphy, is it not?” He ventured.

“It is, but I’ve already told you, you’re early, now if you’ll excuse me,” Gayle swung the door but the skeletal gentleman swiftly stopped it with his scythe. She stood her ground, barring the entrance as best she could with her tiny body. She glared at him, defying him to push her out of the way.

“Listen,” he said. “It’s the cookies. Kate is anaphylactic.”

He swung around, his robe twirling with the sudden movement. He swore at himself as he bounded down the driveway. He’d just broken the No Respecter of Persons rule and would have some explaining to do. Hopefully, the super would go easy on him, this being his first day on the job.

Gayle went back to the kitchen and reached to turn off the oven, but changed her mind. If they’re burnt, no one will eat them and she’d wouldn’t have to explain a thing.

“Who was that, love?” Barry said as she sat down.

“Oh just some salesman, I keep telling you, that no soliciting sign is a little bit too discreet.”

**********

Notes

Word count: 403

Photo source: Pixabay

This is a spin off of Pete Fanning’s The New Guy ,which he tells me was a response to this prompt.