@@DESCRIPT="A Date W/Death by TS"                             
                             A Date With Death               
                                    By
                                The Stranger
     
     The sun was barely coming through the clouds when he stood at
the doorway of his business.  He stomped his feet on the welcome
mat to flush the snow off.  He pulled the key out of his pocket and
unlocked the front door.  His business opened at ten and it was
barely seven now.  He felt frisky today and he wanted to see her.
     Dust awaited him and flew off the door as it opened.  He was
meaning to dust but then she had come in and everything changed. 
He wanted to be with her, always, never wanting to leave her side. 
She made him feel different, she loved him and he loved her.  No
woman had ever talked to him the way she did and no woman had ever
had sex with him.
     He noticed the office had gotten very dusty but it meant 
very little to him, she was on his mind.  Her aroma was in the 
air and he felt a change coming on below.  He dropped his keys on 
his desk and noticed their were no notes waiting for him.  He 
heard her yell for him "Stanly, I'm waiting."  He took off his 
sport coat and threw it on his desk chair. 
     He walked to the back room where she was lying down.  He
looked down at her face and saw beauty.  She looked different then
the day she came in but still he found her beautiful.  Her long
blond hair now looked white and frail, her milky white skin was
turning gray.  "Stanly, I want you" she said without moving her
lips.  Her clothes were already off and soon his were too. 
"Stanly, I love you" he thought she said.  "I love you too" he
answered.
     He moved her cold body down on the steel bed and threw himself
on her, entering her.  She never moved her lips but he heard her
screaming with passion.  His body ruptered in minutes.  Afterwards
he laid next to her and played with her body without 
objection from her until it was time to get ready for work.  He 
put his clothes back on and went to the front waiting for 
customers. 
     Two weeks later it was different.  She called to him and he
came but she had changed.  Her hair was white and harsh and even
gone in certain places.  Her naked skin was rough and almost 
scaly like a reptile.  The aroma was ripe and unpleasant.  His 
encounters with her lessened and he felt his nerves were 
quickening and his temper flaring often for no reason. 
     But he still went to her when she called and in a way he still
loved her.
     In a week she had grown worse.  Many parts of her skin were
missing showing bone.  Her hair was gone along with most of her
facial skin.  After he found her in this condition he only went to
her three more times.  Then he realized it was time that he give
her up.  A few days after the last encounter he buried her.
     Peter Rollins looked tired and distraught as he walked into
the funeral parlor.  His young wife had been mugged and stabbed to
death in the city.  He tried to focus his eyes in the dark funeral
parlor.  He saw that no one was around as he walked up to the front
desk.  A small bell lied on the desk and he dinged it.
     "Just a second" a voice said from the back.  In a minute a
small man with graying hair came rushing in.  He looked old for his
age and wore clothes that looked a century old.  His large forehead
shined in the lights and his hands were crinkled and twisted up,
like the hands of a retarded man.  The man looked 
like a troll to Peter and for a second he was scared.  "Can I 
help you?" the troll asked. 
     Peter said in his frailed voice "Uh, yes, my wife has died."
     "Oh, I'm very sorry" the troll said with a grin.
     "Thank you" Peter spoke keeping his eyes off the face of the
troll "I'm looking for a casket and whatever else I need."
     "Well you've come to the right place" the troll spoke quickly
"here at Stanly's Funeral Parlor and Morgue, we can take care of
everything for you."
     "Great" Peter said.  He felt tears coming on but didn't want
to show them to the troll.
     "She was about your age, I take it?" the troll asked.
     "What?  Yes, she was twenty-five" Peter answered.  He almost
felt anger at the troll for making him think of her.  "What does
that have to do with anything?"
     "Oh just something I like to know" the troll said.  With a
touch of excitement he asked "By the way, do you have a picture 
of her on you?" 



The Stranger  SaZ

