It Was That Kind Of Day

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She timed it so that she would be seated in the boardroom first, before any of those little pissants that were about to do her in drove up the ramp into the car park of the building that she built brick by brick with her own two hands.

Well she signed the paperwork that brought it all into being but why split hairs now?

Cassandra Nevada was about to be ruled irrelevant and fired and turned away from the only job she had ever had or done well for that matter.

She could have played with her phone as she waited, she could have carved a litteny of profanity- Profanity being one of the many languages she had mastered- at her Father’s insistence and her Mother’s overbearing ‘support’ so that she could be the very best Cassandra Nevada the world had ever known.

She spun around and around in her chair and wondered what she would do with all of the time that would be dropped into her lap. Eating a lot of pizza and drinking heavily she guessed. She saw a lot of cats and in her future too.

The door opened and for a minute it would appear it had opened on it’s one because no one was in the doorway.

But then one pallid face after another gathered in the opening and they filed in- trying very hard to pretend that they were looking her square in the face. Of course they weren’t and that brought the tiniest of smiles to the corners of Cassandra’s mouth.

” Good morning Ms Nevada” Pert and sassy Kirsten Simpson chirped as she closed the door behind herself.

Ah. Kirsten Simpson it appeared was the designated Hatchetman. Of course. Send her in last. Just like a Bride walking down the aisle to meet her Groom.

This was her day apparently.

” I’ve had better, not many but you know. Better.”

They all took their seats and Kirsten jumped right into the fire.

” The direction of this company, your company has changed and it comes with no small pleasure that you as an individual have not changed with us.”

” Really?” Cassandra was honestly surprised. ” I thought you’d be over joyed with that. I mean, ” Cassandra stood up and at least 8 eight chairs slid back from the conference table and the rest of them tried for no good reason to push themselves closer to it. ” look at all you’ll have to gain.”

” Everything- every single pie I have put my fingers into, every single deal I have ever made, every man, woman and child-even the ones who aren’t born yet that will call on us and the services we offer to help them in their time of need.”

” That’s the problem Ms. Nevada. You own so much and all of it is built on old technology, dated research and to be honest your public image…”

” Careful there Sweetheart.”

” It’s a bit- intimidating for-

” Don’t.”

” A woman.”

” Christ on a horse, you really went there.”

” The point is, we need a more approachable and user friendly image and you are not able to project that.”

” You know Kirsten, that was the point. We do serious deals with serious people. ”

” That model-”

Cassandra was trying very hard to not let- to coin a phrase her Mother used- to let her devil’s horns show. Once you lost control of yourself her Father believed you were toast. And he would know. He had a long history of popping arteries.

” The model where we actually ask for signatures- written- not printed, not followed by little emojis on actual paper? That we only used clocks with faces and hands in our offices That I demand my employees are fluent in at least three languages and that yes we are actually closed down on Sundays?”

” Locking us out of our system on Sundays puts us behind, we spend all day-”

” Working. Which is what you get paid for.”

” Come on release me. Go ahead. ”

And they did.

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Cassandra found herself in those last moments in her Company with Kirsten.

” You know, my parents insisted I master Math and Latin. Did you know that?”

” I think we put that out on one of our older info promos we did back in the day.”

” They believed that Math like music is the Universal language. And Latin. So many rules,so many lessons in Latin. It was painful to have to learn a dead language. It’s not like I could trot up to the executive washroom and shoot the breeze with people in it. I am literally the only person in this entire organization that knows it.”

Kirsten looked smug. Cassandra was outdated and old school and she just proved her point- thank you very much.

” Why did they insist on it, if it was a dead language. Your parents were a bit on the theatrical side if not practical from what I understand.”

Cassandra Nevada leaned into Kirsten’s ear and whispered, ” Because, you can raise all sorts of hell with that dead language. All kinds of Hell. ”

And then Cassandra pushed her hair away from her face and she went ahead and let her horns show because it was that kind of day.

 

Daily Addictions Prompt: EXEMPLIFY 

 

Little Fears Presents: Anita’s Funeral

First of all when you put my name and funeral together in a sentence you’ve got my undivided attention.

Second.

If you can put my name, a funeral and a grave joke into a short story I am going to fall in love all over it.

So join me and let’s all

Enjoy

Anitas FuneralFinding Leeds – ep. 27

 

“Will you going to her funeral?” asked Sally.

“Yes,” said Lily. “Despite our differences, we do go back a long way. I believe there will be less than five people there.”

“Will you be honouring her last request?” asked Polly.

“What was the last request?” asked Sally.

“That she gets a glass coffin,” replied Lily. “Remains to be seen.”

 

The Invitation


 

 

Hello. Welcome. My name is Embalia Felonwood and I am very glad you came to tea.

It could not have been an easy invitation to accept, given the chit chat and the stories and the warnings about my cookies and candies and the speculations ( the very wild speculation  I must say )about the kind of fertilizer I must be using to make my garden out back grow the way it does.

Let me take your coat, your hat and gloves.

Oh my.

Is that a stake in your pocket or are you just glad to see me? Just my little joke, an attempt at seasonal humor. I know. Humor is not one  of my gifts, but I keep trying to get it right.

Here we are, welcome to my parlor.

Have a seat, settle back are you comfortable enough? Warm enough? No matter what I do this place always has a slight chill about it. I’ll close the curtains in a moment. If that’s alright with you.

Why yes this tea does smell divine and I’m glad you are enjoying the cookies. Have another or two?

I must say, I find your show in confidence and trust in me touching. I am touched. Truly touched.

Here, let me get the drapes. It’s so dark and dreary out there now.

More tea? No let me get it.

No. No I don’t know where those stupid ridiculous stories about me being a poisoner came from. It’s ridiculous. Poison is a cruel, cowardly way to bring about death.

Oh excuse me, just let me…here we go.

As you can see I’m more of a hands on type of a woman.

I prefer the butcher’s knife.

Go ahead dear.

Finish your tea.

I insist.

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Inspired By The Inktober promp: Poisonous