The Incense Salesman
And the Wind Continues to Blow
Gill crawls up to the top of the stairs and looks down to the foyer, his eyes wide like a cat’s moments before it pounces. Who could be knocking at his door? His Father is the only one in the Milligan household who gets any company; Gill doesn’t have any friends in the neighborhood, or town, or the entire county, for that matter. Who could it be?
knock knock knock
‘It could be the burglar man.’ It could be Gill’s Father coming home early… no, that’s ridiculous, he wouldn’t forget his key, he would just come in and start talking down at Gill. ‘It could be the burglar man.’ It could be his first Stepmom, back from the dead and hungry for Gill’s brain… no, that would just be nonsensical, that only happens in Gill’s dreams. ‘It could be the burglar man.’ It could be Gill’s real mother Jill, his birthgiver who died during childbirth because Bill Milligan, never a fan of hospitals because of how much money they charge, insisted on a home birth… no, that would be impossible, the Milligans lived in a different town when Gill was born. Plus, Bill had Jill Milligan cremated against her wishes.
‘It could be the burglar man.’
It could be… but why would the burglar knock on the door? Had he done that the other night, Gill wouldn’t have slept through the invasion and his Father would be home to answer the door now. There’s only one way to find out who lurks behind the door, it seems. Gill steps tentatively down the staircase. At the bottom he draws in a deep breath, closes his eyes, exhales, opens his eyes, then answers the door. Standing there on the stoop, the sunlight dancing off her wavy black hair, is a beautiful woman, a woman with skin like a porcelain doll, a woman who looks like she came straight out of Gill’s dreams.
“Hello there!” the woman of Gill’s dreams chimes, giving Gill a smile’s worth of pearly whites that brightens his entire existence up. “I’m Rose Williamson, my uncle lives down on Fricker Drive. We’re out of eggs, do you have…”
Rose Williamson trails off into silence. She’s staring deeply into Gill’s eyes, seeming to fall into a trance. This makes Gill feel very uncomfortable and exposed.
Gill averts his eyes to his feet, then mumbles, “Uh… hi. I’m Gill. Do we have any what?”
But she says nothing, and though Gill is staring at his shoes, he can see the tips of hers out the top of his eyes. She isn’t moving. The wind blows, the planet turns, the fishermen out on Monksville don’t catch a single thing, and finally, Gill looks up and begins to say, “Uh, hello? Did y–”
Gill is cut off when Rose leans into him and presses her lips against his. Gill pulls away immediately, if only to prevent Rose from feeling the… the uh… the gun in his pocket, yeah, let’s go with that, Gill’s a badass. He’s definitely the type to carry a gun around in his pocket.
“What are you doing?” Gill stammers, out of breath. Rose just looks at him bewildered, as if she doesn’t know where she is, as if she doesn’t know who she is. As if she doesn’t care about any of the above. Then, she kisses him again.
Then, they fall on the floor.
Then, with the front door still wide open, Gill becomes a man two times in a row – the first time prematurely while still wearing his pants, the second time with his pants off – and the best part? Rose doesn’t laugh at him, she doesn’t sneer, she doesn’t call him a failure. She just keeps kissing him.
And kissing him.
And kissing him.
And the wind continues to blow.
Hello Commons, this has been the sixth subchapter of the eighth story from Convenient Incidents, an anthology of fifteen interconnected short stories which revolve around a man by the name of Hilter Odolf Williamson.
Convenient Incidents is part of the Third Spiral, an anthology of sorts called The Here and Now which is comprised of stories told from the various planes of Existence.
Convenient Incidents is available to read for free in its entirety on my website. Click here to check it out.
I’ve written a few other books, too. Click here to see the list.
If you like Convenient Incidents and would like to help support my work, click here and buy an autographed copy of the book (or anything else!) from my store. Alternatively, you can snag a cheaper (and unsigned) copy from Amazon by clicking here.
Be well Commons~