Dropping my keys on the kitchen counter, I rifled through today’s mail to discover a crimson envelope, addressed in gothic script, to a Mr B.L.Z. Bub. Delivered to the correct building, I saw the recipient lived in the apartment across the hallway. New to the complex, I’d met a few of my fellow residents, but although I’d heard my neighbour’s comings and goings, invariably at an ungodly hour, I hadn’t yet encountered him. So, this could be an icebreaker.
Maybe I’m mistaken, but I’m sure the exact instant the doorbell buzzed, the door opened to a swoosh of hot air, revealing a darkly clad figure with flaming red hair and chiselled features. “Hi, I’m Lucifer, and you must be Mark?” He enquired in a raspy, accented twang that was hard to place.
“Yes.” I hesitated. Puzzled, he knew my name. “Have we met?”
“Not in the flesh, but let’s just say I’ve noticed you around.”
“OK. Anyway, the reason I’m here is I thought this might be for you. I found it in my mailbox. It has your apartment number, but it’s not addressed to a Lucifer, so perhaps…”
“No, it’s mine, he interjected. I don’t use my Christian name.” He shuddered as a word with theological significance passed between his lips. “I prefer Lucifer, my middle name.”
“Look, where are my manners? You’re new to the building. I’d love to invite you in for a welcoming tipple, but I’m afraid I’ve a prior engagement. A few old souls I’ve been looking out for are about to go on a long journey and need some guidance.”
“Right, not to worry. Another time?” I shrugged. “It was nice meeting you.”
“And you. But listen, I’m having a little fancy-dress soiree this coming Friday. I’ve a devilish costume I’m dying to show off. Please come, you’d be most welcome. Just bring yourself. I’ll supply the spirits.”
“Something fiery?” A throwaway line said in jest.
He chuckled; a throaty sound reminiscent of a cannibal’s bubbling urn. “Absolutely, my friend. That’s uncanny, you read my mind. Do you know? I feel we’ll be seeing an awful lot of each other,” his parting farewell.
Maybe I’m mistaken, but I’m sure the exact instant the doorbell buzzed, the door opened to a swoosh of hot air, revealing a darkly clad figure with flaming red hair and chiselled features. “Hi, I’m Lucifer, and you must be Mark?” He enquired in a raspy, accented twang that was hard to place.
“Yes.” I hesitated. Puzzled, he knew my name. “Have we met?”
“Not in the flesh, but let’s just say I’ve noticed you around.”
“OK. Anyway, the reason I’m here is I thought this might be for you. I found it in my mailbox. It has your apartment number, but it’s not addressed to a Lucifer, so perhaps…”
“No, it’s mine, he interjected. I don’t use my Christian name.” He shuddered as a word with theological significance passed between his lips. “I prefer Lucifer, my middle name.”
“Look, where are my manners? You’re new to the building. I’d love to invite you in for a welcoming tipple, but I’m afraid I’ve a prior engagement. A few old souls I’ve been looking out for are about to go on a long journey and need some guidance.”
“Right, not to worry. Another time?” I shrugged. “It was nice meeting you.”
“And you. But listen, I’m having a little fancy-dress soiree this coming Friday. I’ve a devilish costume I’m dying to show off. Please come, you’d be most welcome. Just bring yourself. I’ll supply the spirits.”
“Something fiery?” A throwaway line said in jest.
He chuckled; a throaty sound reminiscent of a cannibal’s bubbling urn. “Absolutely, my friend. That’s uncanny, you read my mind. Do you know? I feel we’ll be seeing an awful lot of each other,” his parting farewell.
