The Deadline

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic

An old writer is trying to meet a deadline his publisher has placed on one of his books when...

The Deadline By: Herman Azadi  

(Version 2)


I was very nervous. My old typewriter was not working properly and my earphones were letting a lot of noise through. “God, there is not much time left, and this damned place is so noisy!” I thought.  There were some two hours or less, before the deadline.”  John Breakman, my publisher, had said that it was the last chance he was giving me.

“It is the real deadline this time!” he said angrily.

And now, this stupid old typewriter had started giving me trouble. I sat down and sipped at  my drink. What should I do now?” I thought. It wasn't my fault that the typewriter was causing trouble but I had postponed the job too many times. I could lose my job!

I suddenly heard a noise from outside. Was it John? Maybe my watch was too slow and the deadline was nearer than I had thought!

The  door creaked and a face appeared. It was young and small. "It's a little girl," I told myself. "What a terrible time for a visit!"

She giggled and slowly pushed the door wide open and came in. She then turned to someone else and whispered something. “Are you scared?” she asked more loudly looking back.

“Nope!” said a little boy entering cautiously.

 “This is the oldest room in the house," the little girl said, "Mark says ghosts come here all the time,” she giggled again. “They come to visit great grandpa!”

“He lies,” said the boy. “My Dad says ghosts are lies. They don’t exist!”

The girl giggled again and came nearer. She was looking right at me now. I smiled. She looked a bit like my daughter Sally when she was little. I moved my hand to touch her head, but she swiftly walked away. She was more interested in  my typewriter!

“Mark and I come here to play sometimes when there's nobody in the house,” she said. “Mark has broken some of the keys.”

I was really worried now. John would be here any minute and these silly kids were wasting my time.

 She was now pretending to be typing something. I got up to stop her. She turned and looked straight at me and smiled but did not stop.

I looked at the boy. He was halfway out of the room now. He then turned his face and stared at me.  I smiled and waved to him. His eyes widened. He looked like he was trying to see me from a mile away or something.

"Hey!" I called the girl who was now pulling my typewriter to the side of the table to look for something underneath. "Don't do that!" I shouted. "It may fall off!"

"She is probably a friend of one of the family children," I told myself. "She seems to know about the coins I keep under the typewriter."
"Hey, Bob," she said in a rather loud voice," come back here. I've got to push this old thing back."

'What'chu want?" whispered the boy still staring at me.

"Mark's taken all the old change," the girl said. "I wan o know if there's anything left in the  back!"

"Come on! let's go!" the boy said still standing by the door looking at me ,"he …looks dangerous…"

 "Wooooooo," I said while grinding my teeth. I didn't mind it if they got scared and left sooner. I still had to meet my deadline.

The boy was now half way out of the room again without taking his eyes off me.

"Come on Bob!" said the girl annoyed. "Don't be such a baby!" She then turned around and looked straight at me. "How can you be scared of him? He's been dead for many years! I don't even look at him when I come in here!"

"You stupid girl!" I said feeling badly insulted now,"You enter my room without my permission, fool around with my typewriter, try to steal my money, and don't even look at me!?" I felt like grabbing her and throwing her out of the room, but I controlled myself.

"He is not dead!" said the boy taking another step back," he's moving!"

The girl was now standing in front of the desk staring at me with wide-open eyes. She took a few steps towards me and then began walking backwards. "I tell you," she said, I've seen him lots of times before. He is dead!"

She was standing in front of the boy now near the door.

I ground my teeth again and tried to make some ghostly sounds, "waw….waw…waw.. waw….oooooooooooooo," I said.

The door was wide open now and a gush of wind blew some sheets of paper off my desk.. I messed up my hair quickly and let it blow in the wind . "wooooooo" I said as loudly as I could.

There was a loud noise. The girl turned rapidly around, and the two ran away as fast as they could.

"Stupid children," said someone then."I've told them a hundred times not to go into grandpa's study!" a young woman said as she entered.

 She walked past me and shouted, "You stupid kids! Which one of you threw grandpa's stuffed lion off its stand!? It's all wrecked! It can't be fixed anymore!"

When she turned around, I tried to explain to her that it wasn't their fault. It was the gush of wind that did it. But she wouldn't listen. She did not even pause  for a second to hear what I had to say. It looked like I had long passed my deadline!



































Submitted: July 18, 2015

© Copyright 2022 Herman Azadi. All rights reserved.

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