Old People Know Everything (standard:fantasy, 783 words)
Author: James C. Bernthal	Added: Oct 11 2004	Views/Reads: 3705/2375	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
A young couple have been murdered... or have they?

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

Saskia was cut short by the dismissive wave of the old man's hand. 
Alfred had had enough. 

"Who are you?" he asked. 

The man sat down on the bench that opposed Harry's door.  Before he
spoke, both Alfred and Saskia knew what he was going to say.   He said 
it slowly:  "I think you know." 

Saskia protested.  "No, we don't.  We've never seen you before" 

"You have," said the old man.  "Everyone's seen me before." 

"You're scaring me..." 

"You needn't be scared, Mrs. French." 

Alfred repeated:  "Who are you?  What is your name?" 

"I don't have one, any more.  Not one that you'd understand.  I'm very
old, you see.  Times change." 

"Where is Harry?" 

"Would you like to join him, Alfred?" 

"How do you know my name?" 

"Old people know everything." 

It went on for several minutes, the same questions, and the same
answers.  Alfred took his wife aside and, facing the corner of the 
dingy room, they discussed what they should do.  Alfred said he's keep 
the old man busy while Saskia ran.  He could be dangerous.  The man's 
voice sounded: 

"It's good that you love each other very much.  You are both young.  You
are both lucky.   You are both spared." 

Neither of the two turned back as they listened to this.  They whispered
the final few words of the plan and turned around again.  In unison, 
their faces showed puzzled and horrified expressions. 

The man was gone.  There was a wisp of smoke.  That was bad enough, but
there was a hole in the ceiling, yet no bricks or rubble were scattered 
around.  The hole was quite big. 

Alfred looked up through it, into the clear blue sky.  He could have
sworn it had been raining.  He watched the silhouette of a bird behind 
one of the few clouds flying higher and higher. 

And higher. 

THE END. 


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