Genius in a Bottle
Published in

Genius in a Bottle

The Second Death Of Grandma

FICTION

Photo by Scott Rodgerson on Unsplash

I walked into the office this morning with little to no memory of the events that I had given permission to occur.

Two days ago, I had walked out of a meeting with the managing partners and a very important client to answer a phone call, and no one does that. No woman does that.

Alright, no. This is not one for or about inequality. The fact is, I have not attained the level of repute at the firm to excuse myself for mere phone calls. Especially considering the importance of the client, and the importance of having me in the meeting. The meeting concerned a case that wasn’t assigned to me, in a field of law that I have no expertise in, but the client desires me, so naturally I should be present in the room.

The phone call in question was my friend, Thema, calling to let me know she had found me a new therapist. My current therapist, Dr. Aminat, is not a great listener and that’s like a football failing at being round. Thema said the new guy is great and has one of those names that is so difficult to pronounce that everyone calls him Doc.

I walked back into the meeting greeted with stares and the kind of look on the face of my Boss that killed my grandmother, again.

My grandma died, that was her nurse calling, she had been ill for a while so I had to take it, I said. They all muddled their initial reactions in their own different ways. My boss, being the first to gain some control over his tongue, asked- what happened?. Cancer, I said. Are you okay to continue? -Of course, Let the dead be dead and let the living continue to live, I said.

I took the next day off and surprised everyone by showing up to work this morning. There were so many gift baskets in my office this morning that I considered bringing another relative back to life just to kill them a second time. I know it seems insensitive, but you didn’t know my grandmother. If she were alive, she’d be surprised I lasted this long without killing her again.

Thank you, grandma.

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Moyosore Sheriff Quadri

Moyosore Sheriff Quadri

{retired} Fiction. Poetry. Satire. Humour. Creative Non-Fiction. Master of none. Welcome to my thought journal.