As I stood in the corridor holding the rapidly disintegrating soul of Andre Samuel Walker, a realization struck me with lightning bolt precision. What if I walked away? I could just decide not to work anymore. Do what I want to do for a change rather than follow this script. Surely I’m not the only one who’s thought of doing this … right?

I walked over to a window at the end of the corridor and opened the casement. Tenderly, oh so tenderly, I blew Andre’s soul out into the humid evening air, watching as it ignited in the glow of a street lamp, rising like a firefly into the clouds.

One thing was sure: I would miss such beauty. I never tired of watching souls go back home.

I met the pure blaze of his lover’s eyes and said to her, “I know you want nothing more than to join Andre, but I don’t think that’s the best path for you.”

“You don’t get to decide when I go, Death,” she sneered.

I smiled at her, tasting the cottony wryness of my smile in the roof of my mouth.

“From now on my only name is Jeff.”