Tax Day!

Knock!  Knock!  Knock!

“Coming.”  She called out as she got up from the dinning room table and headed toward the front door.  It was mid-morning and she had just sat down with a cup of coffee and the last piece of apple pie.

She opened the door to see a man in a suit standing on her step.

“Here to collect.”

“I’ve sent in my taxes.  I have a receipt from the post office.”

“I’m sorry, but I’m not here for taxes.”  He said producing a long form with a flourish.  “On April 15, 1993 you offered your soul for, let’s see, ah yes, the man of your dreams.  You verbally agreed to a twenty-year contract.  It’s all in here. It’s all in order.”

In horror she stared at the man recalling a night of drunken delight in her misspent youth.  Her mind flashed over the past twenty years and the changes wrought in the man of her dreams.  No longer youthful, no longer fit and, yet, she didn’t want any change as they were content to grow old together.

“Can I have an extension?”  She asked.  “It’s not uncommon to pay in the future for what’s due today.”

He considered a moment and nodded his head.

“It can be granted.  At a price, you understand.  The interest will be your husband’s soul in addition to yours.”

“Yes.  Yes.  That will be fine.”  She said and signed on the form in triplicate.  She shut the door and returned to the table.  She picked up her plate of uneaten pie and gently wrapped it up for her husband, feeling it was the least she could do.