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Just a Minute, Piggy!

A Court Case

By ANITA RACHELLEPublished 2 months ago Updated 2 months ago 3 min read
Just a Minute, Piggy!
Photo by CHUTTERSNAP on Unsplash

1:30pm: Mina sat still, eyes glued to the courtroom clock’s Roman numerals, ready for whatever judgement a group of strangers felt compelled to throw. She licked her lips, feeling the lipstick dry out, wishing she had put on a more moisturizing lip-balm instead. As one jury member stood to announce the verdict, Mina flashed back to the unfortunate morning she found herself in the wrong place, at the wrong time.

….

“Just a minute! I’ll be right there,” Mina yelled to whomever was knocking at her door, eyes still glued to her screen. Interruption mid-workflow was a sure way to get her absolutely exasperated. Couldn’t people have the decency to call ahead instead of ruining her focus? She wasn’t expecting anyone and hadn’t done any online shopping lately that would necessitate a signature. Oh well, whatever and whomever it was, obviously didn’t have patience as the knocking increased in decibels with each passing second she didn’t rush to address.

“I said, hold on a minute!!” She glanced back at her very rough first draft, hoping the unexpected visitor would soon shoo away. Serving as Tay’s ghost writer was obviously a secret thrill but one Mina hadn’t yet nailed. These still needed significant work, picking which parts and words would stay, go, then make them all flow. Not to mention, playing in the studio tomorrow to insert a chorus and generally work with Tay and team to delete, edit, and move around the bits. For now, it was something to work off of, at least:

Piggy Lipstick

Cast each other in lifetime roles, we did

Unmatched A+ chemistry, convinced.

How could we not?

Thought we were same,

Each other’s very own twin flame.

...

Beyond the superficial,

There was something more

Deep within music’s score,

Convincing me of so much more

If only I’d open your rotting door.

...

Must’ve gone inside a stall

To think alone,

Out of battery, your phone.

That same night you walked off the plane,

A voice whispered deep within,

“It will now begin, the rain,

Your movie, officially in vain.”

...

Little did I know you’d want me

On my knees to crawl,

Ideally scrub your floors you had to keep

Over my head, 8 am, get out of bed.

Just for me to hit, the coldest one of all,

Beautiful bare lipstick-less wall,

Were you happy creating my most unexpected fall?

...

I’ll remember what your mother said,

"Don’t weep if want to wed.

Piggies don’t like tears, raises fears.

They’d rather chug manly beers."

...

Didn’t take her advice.

How could I? I am me.

So by the end I cried,

Brain, incinerated, fried.

...

Shame I knew you felt

Surely hit you like a welt.

Least that’s what happens

If one’s normal,

But who are you to be so formal?

The knocking turned to heavy pounding. Clearly, they weren’t going away. Mina finally jumped up from her distressing desk chair, making a mental note to order a better ergonomic one later that evening.

“Coming! Just a minute!!” as she ran into the hallway and jolted towards the front door. Right hand reaching out, the door opened from the other side before she could turn the handle.

She leaped backwards, expecting an intruder to bolt in.

Except…

Silence. No one there.

“Strange,” Mina thought as she took a few steps forward, hesitatingly expecting the knocker to be in sudden hiding.

“HELLO? Who’s there?”

She looked to her left and to her right. And then she saw them: her neighbor’s award-winning tomato stalks being snipped. A federal crime that came with time. Yet no physical body seemed to be cutting them. One by one, each fell. The culprit? Mina looked around. Was it a phantom pig? An apparition? She couldn’t tell. All she knew was that the police would be on their way. She’d let them know of this ghost who gave quite the show.

Was it just her or had the minute hand shifted slightly to the left of IV which was actually supposed to be VI? She turned her head to the right and down, allowing her whole upper body to follow. Taking a look at the upside-down clock, with minute hand indeed past the now correct VI making it now 1:31, she was jolted right side up back into reality with the words, “We, the Jury, in the case of Tomatoes versus Mina Dobanan, find the defendant....”

FantasyShort StorySatirePsychologicalMystery

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    ANITA RACHELLEWritten by ANITA RACHELLE

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