The old man who used to live at number eighteen had always had strong views about taxes.
In fact, although it seems quite impossible, he went through his entire working life without ever paying any of them. He was always adamant about the notion that everything would tick along perfectly well without them. Of course, just like anyone else, he received demands. Whenever he received one of these he would send off a lengthy letter, explaining in a great amount of detail why he shouldn’t have to pay. This always went the same way; it always resulted in him receiving no reply. He imagined that whoever received it couldn’t handle it and put it in some ‘too hard’ basket that was probably labelled ‘pending’. Whatever the case, he was able to ‘fly under the radar’ year after year. This had been the way of it right up to the point when the van showed up.
It was a little after six in the morning when a white van, similar to an ambulance, pulled into his driveway. Two burly young men wearing white coats got out and rang his doorbell. They did this several times, because this actually brought the old guy out of a deep sleep. It was some time before he answered the door. The woman opposite, always an early riser, watched the goings on from her front window. An activity that made her the centre of attention for several weeks that followed.
As soon as the door opened, the men quickly disappeared inside, causing the front door to slam as they did. Shouting could be heard briefly, then it stopped. Moments later the old man appeared, still in his dressing gown and supported by the two men either side. He was loaded into the back of the vehicle. After making an obvious effort to shut the back doors as quietly as possible, the men jumped in and drove away soundlessly.
Put simply, he was never seen or heard from again…
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