the lyrical law

After Work

The Devil goes Home

Voor Carmen

With a dull click all the lights go out. I sigh deeply. Somewhere in the distance some girl starts screaming.

It seems silly to be afraid of the dark when you’re in Hell.

The lights jump back on. The girl screams again.

She must have been screaming for another reason after all.

The lights go out for a second time.

We have got to find another way to show the shift is over. A nice bell or something.

I scribble it on a note, ‘bell or sth’, and place it in the middle of my desk. 

I’ll get on it next week.

Keys, ID-card and money for the bus. I put it in the left breastpocket of my vest.

Newspaper, files, a box of matches and some other stuff. I put it in my briefcase.

I leave my office and for a second I want to jump in it again.

After a while you get so used to air-conditioning. I always forget how hot Hell actually was.

The girl screams again and I try to locate her.

‘Ah, there she is’, in the oil barrel. That’s what you get for Gluttony, fried.

It’s an incredibly long way from my office to the exit. I used to have a kick scooter but the interns crashed it.

So now I have to walk past all the seven sins, which takes about half an hour on foot.

Damn those interns, but not too literally, off course.

Half an hour…

Well, I guess it’s nothing compared to Dante’s walk.

First of there’s Lust. I never did quite understand why this was considered a Capital Vice. That’s why I gave them the lightest punishment. 

I’d tell you what it is, but some of you are just too young. 

Then there’s Gluttony. I think the girl will stop screaming any minute now.

Around Greed one of my employees comes scurrying towards me.

‘What?’ I try to sound as angry as possible. I really want to get home.

The worker starts babbling something. 

Just what I needed, someone who speaks Latin.

‘I don’t understand you.’ And I leave him behind me.

His ass is fired, but once again not too literally, of course.

Sloth, this part of the walk always takes the longest, logically. 

Maybe I should buy one of those portable music-devices. 

What are they called, Ai-Pots or something?

Wrath, Envy, Pride. Hell is such a grim place.

I start wondering, am I actually making enough money on all of this?

Finally I reach the exit. The guards open the gate for me and I leave Hell, just to enter another one.

The bus is late. My bus is always late. The driver can go to hell, and he will.

I pay for my ticket and go sit in the back. A man gets on and takes the seat in front of me.

He’s distracted, not focused at all. Picks his nose, wipes it on the chair. Takes a mint, sucks on it loudly. Looks out of the window, at his watch, sighs.

Then he looks at me and the focus returns as his colour leaves.

He turns the strangest shade of white, the colour of new-born squirrels. 

Then it suddenly flushes to purple and he starts yelling: 

‘You are Demon! You are Demon!’

I wonder what part of my appearance had scared him the most, pull the hat further over my eyes.

After a one-hour bus ride I stumble out of the vehicle. I’m really close now, thank God. But not too literally, of course. 

My bike is where I had left it a week ago. Its bell however, was not. Some kid must have stolen it, I’ll get my revenge.

I unlock my bike and attach my briefcase to its rack.

I honestly hate cycling. I look silly on a bicycle, everybody says so.

But there was no alternative, they have taken my drivers license away.

And of course it starts raining.

In the distance I can see my house, all the lights are out. Closer, closer.

I put my bike against the wall. I don’t lock it. Take the keys out of my pocket and stumble a bit in the dark.

I walk up the stairs, taking of my vest and my tie.  Stop in front of the door to the bedroom and take of my shoes.

I enter.

Softly, I press my lips against her sleepy eyelids.

‘It’s good to be home.’

…

‘Honey?’

‘Yes?’

‘Your lawyer called.’