“You’ll come back when it’s over,
No need to say goodbye”
Three days had passed since the e-mail incident and she had still not read the whole thing. Whether this was because of the sheer length of the correspondence or the haphazardly written language, I leave to you to discern at will.
She was currently browsing through the pile of flyers and junk mail that had created its own living space on the counter before her. The Captain was reluctant about throwing out pieces of paper and she had long suspected it was because he obviously wanted to save the environment. Seeing him use the papers to wipe his hands after a particularly oily meal had the effect of both disillusioning her in the slightest and stare at him with her eyebrow raised, a talent that the Captain had been trying to learn.
While circling discount deals and bonus offers that were not quite as obvious in their advantage as they could have been, a small beeping fluorescent pink light caught her eye. It was the mater calling. Father never called. He simply sent one word texts that required her to actually pick up the phone and confirm which one of the defined uses of the words he was referring to. Mater had yet to pick up this idea and she was glad of that.
Mother usually wanted to know if she had found a suitable boy to marry by the next auspicious date of the coming month. In spite of the great lengths that she had gone to explain to her kith and mainly her kin that her love interests were mostly fictional or dead, Mother kept her hopes up.
“Because every man in the world does want Lady Obvious for his wife”, she said to the imaginary conversationalist in her mind. For the first time, he had no sarcastic quote to reply back with.
The fact that she was basing all her hopes on a daughter that did not want to reconcile to the well-established homosexuality of Oscar Wilde, said a lot about her enthusiasm and optimism. It said even more about her daughter, which is best left unsaid for now.
Picking up the phone, she replied in her softest tone lest her mother think she would strain her voice. After the conversation ended, she picked up her bag and decided to lock up the office for the day. Captain Obvious was not back yet, but she grown used to him not arriving at the given date because they airport security didn’t look in the obvious places to hide a bomb.
Lady Obvious liked the sound of the lock clicking into place when she turned the key. It made a pseudo-musical sound that Brian Eno would appreciate, she always thought. Turning away toward the hallway, she stopped for a second to check her hair in the mirror. The next thing she knew, her hair was in a tangled mess.
Trapdoors were the last thing she expected to step on in the middle of a busy business complex. Not that she was in one, but it didn’t keep her from setting certain expectations. As she brushed of pieces of lint, spider-web and dust bunnies from her arms, it occurred to her that she might be in some kind of trouble. After all, nobody would ever construct a trapdoor to nowhere for the heck of it.
To Be Continued