The shadowy figure standing at the bottom of the bed was whispering softly.
The sleeper was now awake, woken by hearing his name. His mouth was dry and his eyes stung. He lifted his head and peered around in the near blackness of the bedroom. The spectre was barely visible, but it was there. The peculiar muttering continued. The voice was saying, “The line between life and death is always there. Never more than a hair’s breadth between. A lost moment, a sudden decision, a chance encounter. It is a scarcely observable membrane that separates the two. There are so many of these. Like digging into an underground cable, falling down an abandoned mineshaft, standing too close to a collapsing wall, clearing a machinery jam with the power on, walking too close to a roof’s edge. Such a brief moment. A split second’s decision or indecision. Fiddling with the radio tuner while driving, swimming too far out to make it back to land, travelling too fast along a slippery lane, allowing a frayed electrical cable to come into contact with water.”
The words paused for a moment. In the silence, the man laid trembling.
Then, after a sigh, it went on. “So many moments; there is smoking near a gas leak, taking a shortcut through a construction site, stepping out into traffic, being lost in a desert with no water, standing too close to someone infected with a lethal virus, taking pills without checking the label, losing your balance at the top of a ladder, falling through a damaged roof, jamming a foot while crossing railway lines, getting clothing caught in rotating machinery, falling while not wearing protective safety clothing, passing beneath falling masonry, wearing inappropriate shoes on slippery surfaces, tripping over unseen obstacles, descending a lengthy flight of stairs with no handrail, running through a dimly lit area, losing your footing on a mountain track, and of course, there is always allowing a frayed electrical cable to connect with water. Did I mention that? These really are endless, you know.” The apparition chuckled. The man heard the flap of a cloak and the sound of a bony finger running along the edge of a blade.
Still shaking, the man rolled over; he was now extremely parched. He reached for the water, then stopped… In the dark, he fumbled with the bedside drawer and took out a torch. He switched it on and scanned the end of the bed. Nothing. He swung the torch around and saw that his water glass lay on its side. He rolled out of bed and switched the light on. He stood quivering, taking in the sight of his glass laying in the tray that had filled with water. Moving closer he saw the frayed cord from the clock laying in the tray. He pulled the plug from the power point and stood shuddering, while he drank what little there was left in the tumbler.
The voice came once more.
“Be thankful, that I like to cheat sometimes… between visits.”
