Iain Kelly

‘Where does it lead?’

‘Wherever you are supposed to be.’

Kevin peered down the road to where it disappeared, enveloped in a thick cloud of mist.

‘That’s not very reassuring,’ he said.

‘That depends. Where do you think you should be?’

Kevin thought back. He had done some good things, he had done some things he regretted. Who hasn’t? He looked at the ethereal young woman who was beckoning him on.

‘You’re sure about this? This isn’t what death looks like, is it?’ The woman certainly didn’t look like Death, the skeletal figure in a black robe depicted throughout history. She was young and quite attractive, with flowing dark locks and dreamy hazelnut eyes. Perhaps that was part of the trap, Kevin mused.

‘Will you walk with me?’ she asked, holding a pale hand out towards him.

‘I’m not convinced,’ Kevin resisted. ‘Perhaps if you could be more specific as to what lies beyond this misty tunnel of trees.’

‘It is a path no one has walked before,’ she answered mysteriously.

Her voice was soft and tempting, but Kevin wasn’t born yesterday. ‘I think I’ll leave it, thanks,’ he said, turning his back on her. ‘The lads are expecting me down the pub.’

Kevin sauntered away, not risking a look back.

Esmeralda watched him go. ‘You can come out now,’ she called.

Death peered round the side of the tree which had concealed him. ‘Thanks for trying.’

‘He’s a stubborn one. What will you try next?’

Death’s black cloak shrugged, ‘I’ll think of something. I was sure he wouldn’t be able to resist you.’

***

In the hospital the nurse ran out Kevin’s room, calling for a doctor urgently, ‘He’s awake, Doctor, after all these months in a coma.’

This is a response to the #writephoto Prompt – Destination curated over at Sue Vincent’s Daily Echo. Click on the link to read other stories inspired by the image.