I Can’t Stand My Dead Brother
He was and is still a jerk
I remembered today’s date when I drove out of the parking lot. April 14, 2045. Shoot, I forgot to call my brother! I called him.
He answered immediately. “Hey, Kathy. What’s up?”
As I slowed down at a stop sign, I said, “Do you know what day today is? It’s your death day. You died three years ago on this day.”
“Oh, thanks for remembering me on my death day!” I ignored the sarcasm in his tone. Typical of my brother.
“So, how is mom doing?” he asked.
“She is not doing well… she is weak and keeps forgetting things. I am afraid…”
He interrupted, “What did I tell you the last time we spoke?”
I paused and then said sternly, “I am not going to put her in a nursing home. No way.”
“Dammit! You are going to kill her. Can’t you see she can’t live alone anymore?”
“Leave that to me. She’s my responsibility. I’ll take care of her.”
“How? You live fifty miles away from her… what would you do if she fell and couldn’t get up?” He screamed.
I sighed. It was easy for him to say these things and bully me… he was not the one who had to live my life!
“You know what… never call me again and whine about mom’s condition.” With that, he disconnected.
What a jerk! I tossed the phone onto the passenger seat and pressed the accelerator hard. My lips quivered.
It was my mistake. When I created the digital version of my dead brother using the latest AI tools, I should’ve answered NO to the question, ‘’Do you want the digital version to have the subject’s personality?”
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