Last Words

I thought I’d continue my short stories. This story was inspired by the vagrants I saw making love in the back seat of a derelict car. Best three bucks I ever spent.

I’m going to witness this man’s last words. What if I forget them?

“Here,” he strained, “take this key. It opens a safe. Crucial evidence. Without it, we won’t be able to—,“ he sputtered out. I stood and studied the key. It was rusty, long, and with a skull at the butt. Wait, what judge? And what does the key open? “Please stay. There’s more.” Ah, here we go. “Take the key to my house. In my bedroom you’ll find a painting. Behind the painting is a treasure chest. Use the--.”

“Use the key?”

“Use the key on the--.”

“Use the key on the treasure chest? You have a treasure chest?”

“Yes.” His eyes rolled into his head and he gave out. I’d never seen a man die. I’d also never held an authentic skeleton key. What the hell did I get myself into? “The judge,” so he wasn’t dead, “he’s in this building in room 304. Take my card, do as I told you. It’s important.” His last words. What valor.

I stood again and realized how fragile life was and the impact some have on others. Even though he was a stranger, I felt immensely sad at his being eternally gone.

I began walking away to complete my mission when I felt his hand grab my pants. “Before you go, sir, please I beg of you.”

“What is it?”

“Remove the dildo from my ass.”

To be continued.