Page 6 - The Final Words

“Thank you, that is very appreciated. What was it you asked? Oh, who is Stephen? I
write for a living. I started out in journalism, and now I write novels.” He was so preoccupied
with Denise and his grandparents’ death, he remembered the curse. “Oh, shoot! I forgot, my
dog Tommy is home alone. I haven’t fed him all day. I need to get going. Can I see you again?”

“You know where I work and live. Come by any time.”

Stephen leaned over and kissed Denise gently on the lips, got dressed and hauled his
butt back home.

The last few months were difficult for Stephen. He knew it would be heartbreaking
planning his grandfather’s funeral, but for both it was even a greater anguish. They were the
only parents he knew. The only person who got him through it, was Denise. They became very
close and she stood by him through it all. They fell in love in the short period they knew each
other and didn’t know what they would do without each other. They spoke and decided life was
too short. Stephen was going to move in with her. What Denise didn’t know, was Stephen
didn’t just intend to move in, but he secretly bought a diamond ring to propose marriage. He
had it all planned out. He would pick her up as usual, go to their favorite restaurant and just as
the waiter would bring dessert, he would slip the ring box next to her. But first he had to take
care of a major issue. The typewriter. He had been putting it off and now it had to be dealt
with.

Stephen kept reading that last line. If he didn’t finish the story he’d die soon. What
constituted soon? Several months went by and nothing happened. His mind started to wander
with different thoughts. What if it wasn’t a curse, but some bad joke. But who would do that to
his grandfather and why? But the words weren’t on the paper when he rolled it in the
typewriter. He paced the room, talking aloud, Tommy following.

“What do I do? I won’t tell Denise, or she’ll think I’m crazy. I can’t lose her. Not after I
lost too much.” After hours of contemplating, Stephen finally came up with a way to do deal
with the issue. “I know what I need to do, Tommy,” he said and walked to his desk where the
typewriter stood in its same spot for months untouched.

Stephen ripped out the page and tore it into shreds. He concluded that if there was no
paper, then there was no story to write, so therefore, no curse. He threw the shreds of paper in
the waste bin and emptied it into the big garbage can. “Tomorrow morning the garbage truck
will come and haul it away. Now I can concentrate on writing my own story.”

Stephen took the box with the ring and laid down on his bed admiring its clarity. “She’s
going to love this,” he said and drifted off to sleep.

When Denise couldn’t get in touch with Stephen, she went to his apartment and opened
the door with the spare key he gave her. Tommy didn’t give his usual tail wagging. He
whimpered as she passed him. When she entered Stephen’s bedroom, she found him on the
bed unresponsive with the ring box in his hand. Denise called an ambulance and Stephen was