James the mercenary (A Super Short Story)

There it was, as soon as James heard it he knew that the information would dominate his thoughts.

James He hoped that these ideas were not registering on his face. James didn’t want to be so obvious. James felt his lip twitching at the corners. He breathed in deeply through his nose and consciously relaxed his body.

James’ head felt heavy; he nodded it slowly.
“That’s completely new information, very interesting,” he said. James mentally scolded himself for over talking, mentioning more than was necessary. He battled with his eyebrows.
“Just thought that I would tell you, I mean it concerns you, to a degree, uncle Peter told me not to tell you, told me not to tell anyone. So what, he isn’t in control of me anymore, need to keep reminding myself. He’s not my boss; he’s my younger brother who hasn’t bothered with me for years, whereas you are my son.” his mother said.
There was a moment of silence between the two of them. James looked at his mother; she looked down at her quarter full cup of coffee. They had been talking so long that it had gone cold.
James who had sat still for a long time animated his body by looking out through the glass window of the kitchen patio doors. James stared out into the night. Visions from James’ imagination filled the darkness that covered the back garden.

James would finally get a chance.

James could feel a smile creeping onto his face. He stopped the grin. Rescinded it before could spread further. James turned his head towards his mother.
“She’s old James; she has even been saying to us that she’s a burden, whenever she says that I don’t disagree with her. Maybe I should, but she is. She says that she didn’t expect to live as long as she has and really who could argue, all she does is watch TV and not leave the house. Without judging.”

“Know what you mean,” James said but was immediately cut off by his mother.

“I mean she is my mother, and I love her a lot but really what kind of life is that hanging around waiting to die. I don’t want that to happen to me. Put me in a home or better yet put the pillow over my face when it comes to that. ” mother said.

He looked down at the table; he thought that since they were candid, there was something that he wanted to add to the conversation.

“There is a part of me that thinks, you know, no matter what we are still related, we are still family, I’m too harsh, and maybe I should give her some sympathy, reach out and try to connect with her before she is gone,” James said before immediately launching back in “On the other hand, why bother, it’s too late, when she was at the top of her game grandma wise she gave me the distinct impression that she didn’t even like me. As harsh as this sounds, just because she is dying it doesn’t change anything. Uncle Peter isn’t making things any easier either.” he said.
“I don’t expect you to be perfect grandson, her memories gone and when she did have the memory she didn’t have the relationship with you,” said James’ mother.

“The least that we can hope for is that she doesn’t suffer,” said James.

He looked out into the darkness of the back garden again. He hoped that she didn’t suffer. James didn’t want her to die too early, but at the same time, he did want her to die sooner rather than later. He had some credit cards that needed to be paid, and there was car insurance too, he almost forgot about that debt.

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