As Our Lonely Planet Screams Through the Vastness of Space

by Steve Mitchell

Ding Dong, rang the doorbell.  Thom looked up from his book.

“Wait!”  Lulu whispered.  “Don’t answer!”

Thom took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.

“I’m sure this time!” said Lulu.  “Don’t answer the door.”

“I’ve got to answer the door, Lu.”

“It’s Death.”

“Doorbell!” yelled Missy.  She leapt into the room.  “I’ll get it!”

“No you will not!”  Lulu shook a finger at Missy.  “Have you finished your homework?”


“Go do your homework.”

“But the door-”


Missy crossed her arms and stomped in protest as she left.

Knock Knock, came a knock at the door.

Thom looked at Lulu.  “I’m answering the door.”

“You can’t, Thom.  Uncle Jay, you answer it.  You’re the oldest.”

Uncle Jay raised an eyebrow.  “Yeah, I’m the oldest, but I ain’t ready to die.  And, anyway, it don’t matter who answers.  Death is gonna claim whoever he wants.”

“You’re right.”  Lulu nodded.  “Nobody answer.”

Ding Dong

“This is ridiculous.”  Thom stood.

“No!  Wait!”

“I’m answering the damn do- OW!”  Thom barked his shin on the coffee table.  “Now, see, oh.  Damn it.  That hurts.”  Thom limped towards the door.

“Missy!” yelled Lulu. “Missy, lock your room!”

“What?” yelled Missy.  “I’m doing my homework!”

“Oh, Thom, don’t open it!  Don’t!”

Thom opened the door.  He stuck his head out and looked around.  “Huh,” he said.  He closed the door.  “Must’ve left.”

“There’s no one?” asked Lulu.

“Nope.  Probably a salesman.”

“I was so sure.”

“I know.  Let’s take a breath.  Why don’t you sit and I’ll get the roast.”

“Well.”  Lulu laughed.  “It’s a relief, anyhow!”  She straightened a stack of magazines.  “I’m glad to be wrong.  Really.  I’m glad.  I was just, well, you know.  Anyhow …”

Ring Ring, rang the phone.


© Steve Mitchell 2014