The Devil came for me on a motorcycle

I was driving to work this morning. Earlier on Fridays, which is good for traffic. Very few folks are even going to work, let alone early, like me. My mind on the ice coffee and the breakfast panini I would be stopping off for in just a few minutes. Then I realized I was behind the slowest person alive.

My commute, while not a long one, was frustrating at 15 miles under the posted speed limit. As we plugged along up a hill, I took a glance to see if anyone was behind me, also annoyed.

There, staring back at me in my rear view mirror, was a man on a motorcycle. Gaunt, face half in shade from the morning light lifting over the tree tops. His eyes, piercing, even at the distance he was at behind me.

While he handled the bike smooth and even, he seemed so odd upon the seat. He didn't fit the type that would have that bike. It was unsettling to see his thin, pale frame controlling the iron beast that was the Harley.

77 degrees and it wasn't even 7 am yet.....a chill ran down my spine. "He looks like the Devil on a motorcycle." I said out loud, to no one.

He just continued his icy stare.

As we came around a bend to a stop sign, the light shifted and he appeared to have dark circles under his eyes, his old skin, worn with age, catching the light on the time etched crags.

Then I thought.....what if it was my time? What if the Devil had come for me? Working in tandem with the car in front to slow the traveler, so that Ol' Scratch could pull up along side of me at the next stop.

"Good morning miss," he would say with a Marlboro rasp and the smell, off his understated leather jacket, would be Old Spice with just a hint of sulfur and a touch of clove. "My name is Mr. Azazel, and if you would be so kind to hop on my bike with me....it's time to go."

And I would, cuz who can resist the Devil? And I would wonder, "What did I ever do so wrong? I thought I was a pretty good person." And he would read my thoughts and simply say, "They all think that....even the worst of them."

We came to the intersection that pitchforks into three paths. The slow driver continued right, the 'Devil' went left, and I continued forward. I got to the my lil coffee stop and was a bit hazy from my imagination. Bemused that I could even come up with such silliness.

"It's going to be hot as hell again out there today."

"Yes," I said to the owner, "hot as hell."