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Short story about life: S P A M


Alessandro Ghebreigziabiher

First announcing messages sound.
I cannot take it anymore, Jenny.
What are you talking about, Paul?
That damn spam, every morning I find the emails full of this absurd garbage, including remedies on how to improve my performance in bed and the usual millionaire inheritance from the other side of the world.
And you call it problems? You can’t imagine what tragedy one of my students is living at home. Yet he has always a smile for everybody...
Why is he laughing? Is he stupid?
No, he has a gift.
What would it be?
The ability to play down even in the worst situations. But if someone fails even in the smallest ones...
Don’t act like a teacher with me, please.
Second announcing messages sound.
Here it is... other spams arrived just now, do they hate me?
It's not a personal thing, Paul, they send them randomly.
Arbitrarily to everybody, genius.
Thanks prof. Anyway, listen to this, I’ve got the same many times. Apparently this time the number is little, only eight hundred thousand dollars. You know? With all the debts we’ve done, it would be a godsend…
You have done, Paul, not we. It’s you who wanted to buy the new car and you wanted the air conditioners in every room and you wanted...
I see, you don’t need to stress it all the time. Look what it says more… it talks about a woman, my dead relative… she is deceased in Ukraine. Once retired, she received the aforementioned donation from a wealthy landowner from whom he had worked as a caregiver in his later years. Being in advanced age with a frail health, she hasn’t affected the money at all.
Parsimonious, the old woman, unlike others…
What do you imply with that?
I don’t imply anything, I really mean with purpose. In detail, I’m referring to the bleed that you monthly inflict on our account for those useless football pay TV, not to mention videogames.
Video games are for your son Robert...
What? He haven’t touched them for a long time, since he has a girlfriend, two and a half years, to be precise. It’s you who are glued to them as an unsocial adolescent.
Third announcing messages sound.
This is a persecution…
You know the hoax I was speaking of, the caregiver in Ukraine?
Well, I just got a message that informs me of the now expired legal terms to get the due money. These guys have got fantasy, don’t you think? They could use it to write stories, instead of breaking the balls to us. Enough, I got annoyed, I delete everything as usual.
Multiple elimination sound.
I was thinking…
Your mother had a sister abroad, isn’t it? They had closed relations for the usual family arguments, I remember…
Yes… Aunt Florence. She was living with a guy, I think an immigrant from the East Europe, I do not recall where. She later left the country with him.
You told me she was very fond of you, right?
Well, she used to babysitting me when I was very young, mom was always out for work. In the first years of my life she actually raised me.
How much was the inheritance?

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