page. He hadn’t looked directly at William. “But unfortunately, you won't remember
everything,” he added.
William's expression didn’t change. He turned his attention to the bookcase,
searching for clues about the books. The books contained no markings on the spine.
Just dull, brown leather. There were no knick- knacks, no photographs, nothing but
the brown, unlabeled books.
“I’m going to try something different. I don’t do this with all people who meet me,
Mister Further. I want you to have the whole picture, as you would say, before the
offer. Though you may end up wishing I hadn’t. But I feel you should have the whole
story.”
The clerk adjusted his glasses and glanced down and smiled.
“Why—” William began again but couldn’t finish the sentence.
“Why? Why, Mister Further?” the clerk repeated, pausing. “I am here to offer you a
choice.”
William heard the faint ticking of a clock.
“A choice?” William finally muttered.
“Yes, Mister Further. A choice,” he said, setting the papers on the desk. He
grabbed a pen and turned his attention to the papers on his desk. “Again, you have
died. Memories of your death will slowly come back to you.”
William shrunk down in his seat. He tried to remember how he ended up in this room
with the man sitting across from him. He didn't remember dying.
“Most people will end up speaking with me or one of my colleagues. Once you die
after reaching your 'Eklektos' date, you will meet one of us. We will help guide
you into making a decision. It’s lucky for you that you got me. Some of my
colleagues like to have fun.”