After Death Read Free Page B

she had always been, it amazed him that she didn’t want to have him fall asleep bothered. Not even this once.
    He smiled to himself — a big wide happy smile. He had always heard the expression from spouses that “they were the luckiest people on earth” to have found their mates and before Jackie he’d always found it ridiculously sappy and trite.
    But here he was thinking exactly the same thing — He really was the luckiest man on earth because his wife was wonderful. Absolutely wonderful.

CHAPTER 4 – Inspiration
    Morning light streamed through the gap in the curtains and all the oddness of the previous night seemed to have happened (or not happened) a long, long time ago.
    Frank rolled over and found Jackie’s side of the bed empty and for a moment he felt that sharp pang of distress again. Then he heard the water running through the pipes in the walls and knew she was just down the hall in the bathroom, taking a shower before she needed to hustle off to work.
    He slipped out of bed and pulled on a robe. Argus nosed the bedroom door open the rest of the way and ran in and greeted him playfully, tail wagging and thumping into the dresser and bed. He padded out to the kitchen, Argus close on his heels, and began the morning routine; he put coffee in the coffee maker, got their two coffee cups out of the cabinet, set the cereal bowls and spoons on the counter, then began making a sack lunch for his wife.
    By the time she dried her hair, put on make-up, and got dressed for work (in a very snappy business suit), her breakfast was waiting. She clopped out to the dining table in her heels and plopped down in a chair, then shoveled the cereal spoonfulls down quickly, alternating gulping at her coffee and glancing through the morning paper — intermittently glancing repeatedly at the clock on the wall. In less than five minutes flat she was done and rising again to leave. As usual, she seemed a bit anxious about being late and scanned the room for the fifth time.
    “Am I forgetting anything?” she asked.
    He handed her the lunch in the paper sack with her name written on the side. He’d even drawn a little caricature of her smiling face. She noticed and laughed, a high joyous peel.
    “Cute — very cute!”
    She giggled again and gave him a peck on the lips.
    “Don’t forget to feed Argus, okay?”
    He shook his head and gave her a look. “Have I ever?”
    She put a hand up as if to say “You’re right, you’re right…” and raced for the door.
    “Good luck today. Write the great American horror novel!” she called out, followed quickly by a smile and a sotto after thought; “If there is such a thing...”
    One last low laugh, a quick bend to she scoop up her leather portfolio and she was gone.
    Frank stood leaning against the kitchen counter momentarily lost as he heard her car pull out of the garage and rumble off down the street. Then he went through his routine on full automatic. He finished his cereal. He brushed his teeth. He watched a little local news on TV. He walked Argus around three long neighboring blocks. He fed Argus and made sure his water bowl was full.
    Finally, he poured himself another cup of coffee and sat before the computer and turned it on. A moment as the machinery whirred, and the inevitable cursor blinked at him from the screen.
    He placed his hands lightly on the keyboard and tried to clear his mind. He needed an idea — not just any idea but THE idea. The Big One. The one that would change their lives forever.
    The clock ticked on the wall. It was annoying. Then the sounds of Argus as he ate filtered in, overlapping and mingling with the others. In the otherwise silent room, these sounds seemed amplified and conspiratorial. They interrupted and dimmed his inner sight — There was no way to concentrate with this.
    He swiveled in the chair and watched Argus as he eagerly chomped and chewed. He glanced at the blank screen, cursor flashing... flashing… flashing… He had