Besides writing novels I also like to come up with (very) short stories, designed to intrigue people and make them think. This is my latest story – The Other People. I hope you enjoy it.
The Other People
We are the other people, the nameless ones, who nobody remembers. Our mistake was just to be working for someone famous when they died. We were just doing our jobs, so why doesn’t anyone know who we are? Maybe our loved ones will think of us from time to time, but to the rest of the world we will stay anonymous.
Now here we sit, waiting at the Pearly Gates, while St Peter is checking his list. We gave him our names but he frowned and shook his head.
“No, I don’t see any of those names,” he said. “Are you sure you’re in the right place?”
We took offence at that.
“Of course we are! Do you think we belong down below? We’ve all led good lives and have worked hard for our employer.”
“Oh, that’s it!” replied St Peter. “You’re with Mr Johnson. That explains it. Sorry, but you’re just down as four other people. It’s the media’s fault. You never get all the facts.”
Then he read to us from the newspaper he had:
“Tributes have poured in today after the untimely death of Johnny Johnson, famous tennis player, coach and benefactor, who died yesterday in a light aircraft crash. Four other people who were travelling with him at the time, were also killed. Johnny Johnson has had a long and outstanding career and will be much missed. His achievements include………..”
We are the other people, the nameless ones. Please remember us.