[ IP ] Violet Hill

Something about her drew him in. He stalked the streets, performed his duty, ushered the souls, but always he ended up at her side. Mortimer was in love, but the one he loved was blind to him. So, he told himself he would wait for her Time to come, and he would confess his love, and she would stay Between with him. Not quite on the other side of death, nor the other side of life. Neither here nor there, but together still. 
 
 His love was so that, on late autumn evenings, before the sun sunk behind the glass towers, he trailed her. When she passed a bed of flowers he ran his scythe along them and made their colors more vibrant. Mortimer ’ s tall sullen figure would further wilt when she didn ’ t notice. But, still he followed expressing his love in the only way his situation allowed. 
 
 Now, it ’ s known that some species of animal have keen enough eyes to see Between. It ’ s why the crow squawks over corpses, and why the cat seems to see what isn ’ t there. It ’ s also why her dog, Seven, snarled and snapped at Mortimer. 
 
 `` Good boy.'' Mortimer would say. `` I ’ m not going hurt you. Scouts honor. Though, I ’ m not quite a scout, am I?'' He trailed off, often thinking out loud. Loneliness does that to a person; even if they were the acting embodiment of Death, with all of the powers that come with the title. 
 
 One winter day, the girl, Winnie, made her way to the train station, her red scarf stark against white snow. Mortimer followed. He knew that it was the day, and wasn ’ t yet sure he could bear to go through with it. The screeching tires, and the man who paid little attention, were on their way. Today, Winnie would meet her end and Mortimer would meet his love. 
 
 Winnie stopped at a bench, and tried to settle Seven, who was yipping at Mortimer. Mortimer sat beside Winnie. She shivered. He wrapped her in his flowing cloak, and, though it wasn ’ t physically in her world, it warmed and comforted her. 
 
 `` Soon you ’ ll see me.'' Mortimer whispered. `` I only hope your feelings are the same.'' 
 
 Seven tired of trying to alert his companion to the spooky figure that sat with her, and laid in the snow. 
 
 `` Oh, no you don ’ t.'' Winnie said. `` Get up. We have a train to catch.'' 
 
 She stood and tugged Seven ’ s leash until he got to his feet. The three of them walked the street leaving only two sets of tracks in the snow. 
 
 `` I know you can ’ t hear me, but I ’ m sorry for what is going to happen. It ’ s not my choice. Fate decides these things. I just deliver you to the Other Side.'' Mortimer was genuine. He ’ d been acting as Death for some two hundred years, but it always hurt him to do his job. The Gods liked it that way; it ’ s why they chose him. The last thing they wanted was a Death that enjoyed seeing the light of a life dissipate. 
 
 Winnie stood at a corner waiting for the sign to change. Down the street, a man drove recklessly. He bounced on and off of the curb again and again. He neared the corner where Winnie stood. She didn ’ t see him. His tires squealed, and crunched as they slid through the snow. Over the curb he bounced again. Winnie didn ’ t see. Mortimer did. It was her Time. 
 
 Just before impact, Mortimer changed something. He knew he shouldn ’ t, but he could. It was within his power. Time froze. 
 
 Deep in the pockets of his uniform, Mortimer pulled two round watches. One read *Trace Green*, the other read *Winnie Akimoto*. Winnie ’ s was stopped at midnight; Mr. Green ’ s a quarter to eleven. Mortimer removed the backs of the watches. He wound Winnie ’ s back to 8:15 PM, and wound Mr. Green ’ s to midnight. 
 
 When time moved again, Winnie found herself several feet back from where she ’ d been before. Mr. Green ’ s truck slammed into the thick pole that held up the street lights. The horn blared. 
 
 `` Oh my god! Someone call an ambulance!'' Winnie yelled as she flung open the passenger-side door. 
 
 Mortimer was already a half mile down the road. He walked with his head hung low. The Gods would be angry, but his love was saved.
