I wrote a nasty, backhanded comment on a former colleague's obit website. She lied, cheated and stole, but she did it with the sad innocence of the fat girl who has to go home to an abusive household every day. If she didn't destroy so many people in the name of greed, I wouldn't have said anything. Instead, I said that people who knew her would never forget her. People who don't know me well thought it was such a warmhearted thing to say. Someone who knows me very well called me to say I'm a total bastard--while laughing. That was a strange phone-call. "The only winner here is her widower." "You're terrible. She has a three year old son." "Come on, it's not like the kid's nanny died." "'They'll never forget her!' I can't believe you wrote that!" "Everybody is talking about how tragic this is for the kid. What about the kids of all those people she ruined?" "..." "Yeah! That's right, you don't see them learning to crawl around our office." "Stop it. I feel guilty for laughing."
People I knew started dying after that. God's a fucking joker like that. The first grown-up death's funny; know what I mean? She drank herself to death at the age of 37, hardee har, har. Well, I just finished assembling God's secret code from stray letters in the National Enquirer and he assures me every and all future deaths I encounter will be just as funny to someone who hates the people I love, as I found my ex-colleague's to be.
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Come on, prose isn't even my thing. Someone should be able to stomp this piece. Let's see what you've got?
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