Fifty Nine

Mason grabbed his keys and headed to the door to leave for work - he had some crazy meetings to get through before he could go to Australia to see Raven, but he froze the instant the door opened.

Standing in front of him was a dead woman... that was less than dead. Margaret. Standing at his front door. Her face was mostly hidden behind oversized shades and a scarf wrapped tightly around her neck like the stereotypical woman hiding her identity in a bad television movie.

Mason's heart skipped a beat. Everyone thought she was dead, but here she was alive and breathing.

"Margaret?" Mason asked, his voice filled with disbelief and anxiety. "I thought you were---"

"Dead?" Margaret interrupted. "I'm not, not that anyone seemed to care that much. But - can I come in? I'm rather conspicuous standing out here."

Mason stepped back, allowing her entry.

"What - I don't -"

"Shut your mouth, Mason, you'll catch flies," Margaret smiled, affectionately. She had never felt much for her step