{"id":2725,"date":"2024-10-27T10:27:09","date_gmt":"2024-10-27T17:27:09","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/?p=2725"},"modified":"2024-10-27T10:27:09","modified_gmt":"2024-10-27T17:27:09","slug":"seeing-her","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/2024\/10\/27\/seeing-her\/","title":{"rendered":"Seeing Her"},"content":{"rendered":"\n<p class=\"has-small-font-size\"><em>prompt: Write a story where a creature turns up in an unexpected way.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-small-font-size\">available at <a href=\"https:\/\/blog.reedsy.com\/short-story\/pligmw\/\">Reedsy<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Death comes calling for every living thing at some point, even when she sends one of her agents around to collect. Most of those agents are simply doing what it takes to survive. Life, for the most part, feeds on death. Some, however, are unwitting and even unwilling, but they still collect.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Travis Leoni became one of those unwitting agents of death when he had lain on the lawn of the cemetery after placing flowers on his parents\u2019 grave. A passerby thought he might need help and called for police to check on the \u201chomeless man sleeping in the graveyard.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>The presence of the officer there meant she wasn\u2019t in a position to prevent an accident. A driver in a hurry that would\u2019ve slowed down at the sight of a police cruiser, blew through an intersection and hit a cyclist.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Travis, the officer that checked on him, and the concerned citizen that called it in had no idea of their roles in that death, but Death knew. She knew that the cyclist didn\u2019t have to die that day. In fact, the idea that every living thing has a pre-ordained time to die is something people tell themselves to feel better about it. Living things, including people, die when they die and not on a schedule.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Travis left his parents\u2019 grave behind and walked to the bar where he and his father used to share a pitcher of beer every Saturday. He sat at a table in the back, not wanting to be in the midst of the crowds on the anniversary of his parents\u2019 passing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>The bar filled, and others sat at the table for a bit before leaving again. One man, however, dressed in a silk suit, sat down across from Travis with a glass of wine and stared at him until he responded.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cWhat do you want?\u201d he asked the man.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cYou look like you\u2019ve seen Death,\u201d the man said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cSo have a lot of people.\u201d Travis emptied his drink and gave the waitress a nod for a refill. \u201cI\u2019m not looking for sympathy and I don\u2019t need your advice or religion or whatever you\u2019re offering.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cYou misunderstand me,\u201d the man said. \u201cI don\u2019t mean you\u2019ve seen the end of a life or lives, I mean you\u2019ve seen <em>her<\/em>.\u201d He leaned across the table. \u201cDeath with a capital \u2018D\u2019.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>The waitress set his fresh drink down and Travis handed her a bill and waved off the change. \u201cWhat is that supposed to mean?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>The man smiled, but his eyes reflected nothing. \u201cI mean that there are so few living things that have seen the Lady Death before she comes for them, it\u2019s easy to pick out those who have.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Travis harrumphed. \u201cIf there\u2019s anything you see here, it\u2019s survivor\u2019s guilt.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cThat\u2019s what you think,\u201d the man said, loosening his tie. \u201cBut there are memories you haven\u2019t faced yet.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cSo you say.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>The man sipped at his wine. \u201cWhat is your employment?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cI\u2019m an EMT.\u201d Travis said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cExactly. Of course, you didn\u2019t even consider it before the accident.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cWell,\u201d Travis said, \u201cyou seem to know everything about me.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cNot everything,\u201d the man said, \u201cbut enough. You spend one weekend a month as a volunteer, right?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cYeah, I\u2019m a vigil volunteer.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cWhat is that, exactly?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cI sit with dying patients in hospice care.\u201d Travis stared into his drink. \u201cI hold their hand, talk to them, calm them. I just don\u2019t want them to die alone.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cYou are doing what you saw the lady herself do.\u201d The man stared at Travis unblinking. \u201cYou\u2019re drawn to her, and long to meet her.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cI long to meet death?\u201d Travis asked. \u201cI don\u2019t have a death wish.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cThat\u2019s not what I said. I said you want to see Death, capital \u2018D\u2019, again.\u201d The man touched Travis\u2019s forehead. \u201cRemember.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>The oncoming truck swerved into their lane. Travis\u2019 father jerked the wheel to the right, sending the car into the end of the guard rail. The car flipped over the railing, sailing off the bridge, landing upside down in the creek far below.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Travis woke suspended by the seatbelt in the back seat. The headrests of the front seats disappeared into the crushed roof of the car, where water washed in clear and flowed out red. He knew his parents were dead.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Then he saw her. Though only visible as a faint shadow, he knew she was there to help. He couldn\u2019t make out what she was saying, but he could feel waves of peace and comfort radiate from her to cover his parents. He saw their faces for a brief moment, smiling as they left with her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>When his awareness returned to the bar, he looked at the man through his tears. That feeling he had the night his parents died \u2014 that was the same feeling he tried to give those passing at the hospice care&nbsp; \u2014 or in his ambulance. He wanted to feel her presence again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Travis dried his eyes. \u201cHow did you know what even I didn\u2019t?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cBecause I can always see her,\u201d he said. \u201cAnd I know that she\u2019s never far from you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cWell, yeah. I mean, I help people who are dying.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cThat, and she\u2019s sitting right beside you.\u201d Again, the man smiled, but it didn\u2019t reach his eyes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Travis looked to the side and saw only the empty bench beside him. He looked back at the man\u2019s eyes and realized that they were not reflecting the lights around them. They looked dull, dead.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cWhat are you?\u201d he asked. \u201cNo, ignore that. If she\u2019s sitting there, why can\u2019t I see her, but you can?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cShe doesn\u2019t show herself to the living.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Travis rolled his eyes on reflex. \u201cShe doesn\u2019t show herself to the living, yet you are here, talking and breathing and drinking wine. You seem pretty alive to me.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>For the first time, the man\u2019s smile reached his eyes. \u201cHer definition of living is slightly different than yours. Any organism that can die without external forces is alive. As I can be killed but can\u2019t die otherwise, she doesn\u2019t consider me alive.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cThen how did I see her last time?\u201d Travis asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cThat I don\u2019t know,\u201d the man said, \u201cbut I offer a way to meet her properly and then see her always.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Travis closed his eyes. What was he feeling before seeing her during the accident? The shock of knowing his parents had just died hit him like a hammer. Having just relived the memory, he allowed himself to feel that shock and the blanking of his thoughts.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Travis opened his eyes and looked to his right. She was there. If asked to describe her, he would be hard-pressed to come up with any physical traits. It was her gentle, calm presence that filled him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>She gave him a sad smile and brushed his cheek with her hand. He felt her love for him, for all living things.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Travis turned to look at the man across from him and truly saw him for the first time. He saw the hundreds of years of post-death existence behind the facade of a man. He saw through the youthful appearance, paid for by drinking the blood of others. The vampire that sat opposite him was a husk of a creature, preserved but dead.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cYou\u2019re thinking about it,\u201d the vampire said. \u201cI can give you what you want. You should see how she\u2019s looking at you now, knowing that she\u2019ll be meeting you properly in a moment.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cThat\u2019s where you\u2019re wrong.\u201d Travis stared at the vampire with his new sight. \u201cI already have what I want, and you want to take it away. As long as I live, she\u2019s here for me and those I help. You\u2019re nothing more than a husk, shambling through your perverse imitation of life.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cWhat? How are you seeing like the undead?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cUndead? No, you\u2019re dead-dead, you just don\u2019t want to admit it. Good night.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Travis stood and looked back at Death. With the knowledge of how to open his sight to her, she was easy to see. \u201cI\u2019m leaving. I\u2019ll see you whenever you\u2019re near.\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>prompt: Write a story where a creature turns up in an unexpected way. available at Reedsy Death comes calling for every living thing at some point, even when she sends one of her agents around &hellip;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[208],"tags":[210,209,220],"class_list":["post-2725","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-trunk-stories","tag-fiction","tag-short-story","tag-urban-fantasy"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/pxT7i-HX","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2725","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2725"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2725\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2726,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2725\/revisions\/2726"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2725"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2725"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2725"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}