You 're moments late to literally everything . You watch busses pull away as you run behind them , girls get asked out as you walk up to them , and you have never caught a green light . One day though , you arrive on time . [ WP ]

For as long as I can remember I've been late for everything. My mother even used to joke that I was born a week late. So I guess I started things off on the wrong foot. 
 
 Every morning I was late for school. Every night I was late to bed. It was something that everyone in my life grew accustomed to. I *tried* to be on time or early but nothing ever worked out that way. Traffic was always bad, I could never take the bus because I could never catch it. Or I had a flat tire. Sometimes I even got into accidents. 
 
 My insurance was n't cheap either because of all of this. But despite everything I managed to live a somewhat decent life. I had a decent job, a decent family, a decent house. The car... not so much due to all the accidents. 
 
 After the first 30 years of being habitually late I gave up trying to be on time. Life worked out. Life went on. People got annoyed but forgave me. Thankfully my boss was a lenient man. 
 
 At 70 I finally retired. A bit late to that as well, but I got to enjoy my golden years with my lovely wife and grand children. Despite being related to me, no one in my family seemed to catch my curse. The kids were always punctual, probably because they saw how late their old man was for their entire life. 
 
 Laying on my bed surrounded by my family, I reflected on my life. Despite being late it was good. I smiled and closed my eyes ready to finally die. I was probably late to that as well. As my final breath left my body, so did my soul. I was lifted out of bed to see everyone around me crying. I waited... and I waited... for HOURS I waited. 
 
 I watched my body being hauled off by the mortician. I watched my family hug each other and cry. And I continued waiting. What was supposed to happen next? Was I supposed to do something? Was this what the end was? I started to question my sanity. I started to question if it was a dream. 
 
 Three days later, as I was standing in the living room watching my grandchildren play and my children plan my funeral a man appeared. He was well dressed in a nice suit. He had a very forgettable face, not ugly, but not attractive. He looked down at his pocket watch that was attached to his lapel. It had a small Scythe insignia on it. 
 
 `` I'm sorry I'm late'' He said. `` We did n't think you would be on time. Why do n't you come with me and I'll bring you home?''
