The Bargain

I sold my soul thirty years ago.

I had fallen on hard times. The rector came round offering me charity but I told him that I had sworn against my Maker when He took my youngest and that I would accept no charity from His church. I told the same to the Roman priest who came after on the same errand.

But then came a caller, all in black, with dark eyes and dark hair. He brought food and even money and I was sorely tempted but I told him that I would accept no charity for danger of it being Christian charity. He laughed at that so hard that his cloak gave a leathery rustle and he said that I need have no worry on that score. Far from it. He told me that his was not a charitable, but a business proposition. He was not making a gift of the money and food. He wanted to purchase something - something for which I had no immediate use. He produced a parchment document which I signed and so gave up my soul in exchange for his food and money.

At the time, this seemed like a good bargain, for, even now, I am convinced that, without his food, I would have gone to meet my Maker that very week. And I had no wish at all to meet Him. But now, as I near my end, I am worried. My black visitor had all the appearances of Evil upon him but, after he left, I found a single white feather on my threshold and, in retrospect, he smelt unsettlingly of honey and milk rather than of anything sulphurous.

My worry is, to whom, precisely, did I sell my soul?