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Timing Is Everything

"Youíre next, Charlie," said the Angel of Death to the chubby guy on the bridge.

Charlie dashed to the rail and jumped. His body smashed against the rocks below.

Onlookers applauded.

"Your turn, Sarah."

Yelling, "Life stinks!" she jumped headfirst.

Onlookers cheered.

"Look, Boss," said AODís ssistant. "Somebodyís standing on top of a girder."

"Hey you!" AOD called though a bullhorn. "Whatcha doing?"


"Whatís your name?"

"Harold Pickle."

AOD checked his daily planner. "Donít jump. Youíre scheduled for tomorrow."

"Does it matter?"

"Yep. Affects the entire cosmos. Go home. Come back tomorrow."

"But I canít stand my wifeís constant bitching."

"Get a room. Find a nice streetwalker. Enjoy yourself. Itís your last full day on Earth."

"OK. Iím coming down."

Just then, Haroldís wife jumped out of a cab. She bitched at him so unmercifully, he scrambled back up the girder and jumped.

The entire cosmos collapsed into nothingness.

Story by:

Michael A. Kechula

submitted at 4:06pm

6 May 2009

Michael's stories have been published by 107 magazines and 30 anthologies.