Appointment in Samarra
Henderson, a con man and career criminal, who’d been released early from prison because of the coronavirus pandemic, was at a supermarket in Sacramento. Holed up in a small apartment while he considered schemes to take advantage of the pandemic, he now scooped up all the toilet paper he could. Feeling that someone was looking at him, he glanced up and saw Death in the next aisle; their eyes met and Death made what he thought was a threatening gesture. Henderson immediately abandoned his shopping cart, ran out of the store, jumped into his stolen car and drove as fast as he could to San Francisco.
Once in San Francisco, Henderson stopped his car and asked a homeless person where he could find an out-of-the-way hotel. The homeless person pointed and held out his hand but Henderson ignored the plea, drove to the hotel, which looked like an abandoned building and entered. The hotel clerk, who, although he didn’t know it, had the virus, gave Henderson the pen he’d sneezed on earlier that day to sign in.
Back in Sacramento, the checkout clerk asked Death why he’d made a threatening gesture to that other customer. Death said that it wasn’t a threatening gesture, it was a gesture of surprise. He’d been surprised to see Henderson in Sacramento because he had an appointment with him that night in San Francisco, at the hotel Samarra.
After the Pandemic
The lockdown was finally over. Mr. And Mrs. Smith were preparing their shopping list.
“Let’s see,” said Mr. Smith. “Orange juice, milk …”
“Get two gallons,” said Mrs. Smith.
“But we don’t use that much milk.”
“You never know what will happen. Suppose they run out again?”
“Alright, two gallons.”
“A dozen eggs, …”
“Get two dozen.”
“We don’t eat that many eggs.”
“Two dozen. You never know.”
Mr. Smith sighed. “A loaf of wheat bread. I know, I’ll get two loaves. “Some lunch meats.”
“Get ten packages.”
“I’ll get five.”
“You have the fruit?”
“Yes, I’ll get a lot if they have it.”
“Don’t forget the toilet paper.”
“But we still have twenty rolls left,” said Mr. Smith.
“That’s alright. Suppose they impose the lockdown again?”
“Okay, I’ll get two.”
“Get five.”
Mr. Smith sighed. “Alright.”
“Be sure to wear your face mask.”
“Do you think that’s necessary?”
“Yes, you never …”
“You never know. Okay, I’m on my way.”
“You have the list?”
“In my pocket.”
“Be sure to get the toilet paper. Make it ten rolls.”