Expect a few of these random stories hopefully over the next few days and weeks as I attempt to squeeze out my creative juices.
“While she long had an eerily obsession with death, this obsession was at a distance until the fateful events on the second Thursday of June. It happened swiftly. It was a surprise to many.
She had just finished her 4 o’clock “Historia de las Relaciones Públicas-“
“Nope.” She quickly deleted the words on the screen. “Too morbid. I don’t want my friends to question my emotional health. And why would she take a public relations class in Spanish?”
She scrunched underneath her desk to check that her laptop was plugged into the outlet, and tried again.
“Though she was fortunate to have never grappled with death herself, she was commonly seen as a pillar in her community as a comforter in the face of grief and mourning. Many remembered the hours that she spent with Henrietta O’Callahan after Mr. Earl O’Callahan slipped from the earth, Henrietta waking up one morning to discover that her partner of 47 years had passed away in his sleep from a massive brain aneurysm. After the funeral at the old Baptist church, neighbors didn’t see Henrietta leave her house for a week. Sometimes they would hear piercing screams. Other times the house was so quiet that when folks came to drop off their casseroles (that slowly piled on the kitchen table – untouched), they could hear the vivid sounds of the grandfather clock move.
She didn’t leave Henrietta’s side for the week. A few days came and went, and neighbors stopped visiting and dropping off casseroles, having expected that Kiva would be that pillar for them. Because that’s what she was known for.”
She paused, took off her eyes from her screen and thought carefully for a moment, and screamed to no one in particular.
“The essay prompt was to create a short story cautioning the dangers of false platitudes, and here I am making up story after story about death? I’m never going to pass this class,” she groaned.