My aunt called me again, fifth time today and I'm still not answering. She's been doing this ever since the funeral and I know for a fact that it's just a ploy for attention. It's just another way for her to validate her existence and continue to plague the rest of the family.
The letters were the start of it all, written on floral stationary that reeked of her lavender perfume and old cat. From there she'd visit when we weren't around and leave mud everywhere, footprints, hand prints, even her damn cat's paw prints. It was ridiculous and she refused to stop until we talked to her face to face, or as close as you can get to the dead.
At first it was easy enough to answer the phone and listen to her muffled sobs and complaints through thick staticky crackles but she could only say the same three phrases. She always began "It can't rain, the weather forecast said cloudy skies only!", "Roger don't call me when I'm driving, you know how muddy these roads can get" and always ended with "Traffic's too bad, I'll take the short-cut off road and be home in 5."
She drove right into a swamp and by the time they found her she was water-logged and stone cold dead. Shame she doesn't reckon so, as far as she's aware she's still stuck in traffic and trying to get back to Uncle Roger in time for dinner.
We've told her time and time again what happened but every time she begins to understand she just loops back to the beginning and forgets it all. An hour or so later she'll call back in complaining about the rain and how the forecast couldn't possibly be wrong.
At least she doesn't come here in person any more, that much is a blessing.
I never could stomach the smell.
No comments:
Post a Comment