A DEAL IS A DEAL

The Meeting

Being a successful writer has always been my dream, and from an early age I began working towards it.
With freelance writing and some biographic jobs I got hold of from time to time,

I wasn't really getting any where. Haven wrote my first novel at sixteen,

And seen what it's like for up-coming writers, with no strong recommendations from popular writers. I began to feel disoriented.
Looking at my life it felt completely bleak and uncertain, I kept telling myself; "you need to get a job" but I duobt that made any impact on me.

But something made me kept me holding on, some how I felt my big break was close and, I didn't want to miss out on it.....
Then it happened, one cold wet dull tuesday morning, while still in bed trying to work up some enthusiasm to finish a comic story for a newspaper that had a financial foot in the grave and another smeared with lawsuits.
Over defamation.

I had a loud bang on my door, I sat abruptly, apparently who ever it was, definitely was arrogant and I guessed at once it was the caretaker who resided on the third floor, he pounded on the door again. His arms reminding me of the tropical sledge hammer slamming home on a nail.

"Henry I know your in there you lazy faggot." He bawled. "I've had just enough of you, here's a three months quit notice I need you out of this apartment, and don't bring your sorry self to beg me about it, 'cause if you think your worthless words gonna move me again. " He paused for a short laugh.
Then sneered.
" Then be ready to make your bed in the streets." And with that he walked away swearing at me.
I couldn't blame him less, I thought wearily, I mean here was a man equally sick of life, once had a life and a home but the booze and gambling got at him, killed a friend during a drinking spree cause he found out he was having an affair with his wife.

Spent eight years in prison, while in jail, his wife filed for divorce, and left him with literally nothing, by the time he was out he had grown a unexplainable hatred for women and called them all sluts.
Came to work for his uncle who owned series of rental apartments, of which I was unfortunate to be a tenant of one.

As I swinged my feet off the bed I heard another tap on my door - not the loud banging sound but gentle dull knocks which sent chills up my spine, it sounded thrice - three slow knocks and whoever was behind the door dropped something on the floor and slide it through the tiny space just between the door and the floor.

Whoever that was, I never heard his receding footsteps as he left, but I could see a white envelope laying on the floor right there.
Whoever delivered that must be gone by now, but I suddenly realized my throat had gone dry, and I hesitated on the idea of walking over and picking up the envelope.

After a minute I shrugged it off and braced myself. Walking over to the door I picked up the envelope, it was flat rimmed like every ordinary envelope, even though my heart was slamming against my ribs. My hands shook a little as I ripped it open.

To my relief it was an empty note folded carefully like if something was actually written in it.

Thinking it was some sick joke I turned it over and my heart sank.
Wirrten in bold letters were the words:
"You have been summoned."