Ficlet: Death Of A Boring Call Centre Employee
Here’s the second ficlet I ever wrote.
Death Of A Boring Call Centre Employee
“So I’m dead, then?”
Dave hadn’t been ready for this. He’d spent most of his life working in Customer Care for a Broadband supplier. When he wasn’t at work, he was at home buying rare playing cards on the web. This is how he’d spent his time, and now he was stood in front of God, he had to admit that he felt a pang of regret.
“Yep,” replied God.
“And you’re quite sure you’re God?”
“I was the last time I looked, yeah.”
“But,” and Dave tried to pluck the right words out of the air here so as not to offend the Almighty, “You’re only five foot tall. Your tee-shirt’s filthy. And you’ve clearly got bits of tissue stuck to your face where you’ve cut yourself shaving.”
“Nobody’s perfect,” grunted God. “Especially you lot. You ‘umans spent so much time tryin’ to make sure the afterlife is a good’n, you forget to live. Dun’t occur to you that might be it, does it?”
“So there’s… nothing?”
“Nope.”
And as he began to fade away, Dave began to wonder exactly what an eternity of nothingness would feel like…
Commentary…
This is, probably, a revised version of a short story I wrote a few years ago about a man who accidentally kills himself in his kitchen with a butter knife. He’s visited by Death, who turns out to be a short, dumpy man in a stained Manchester United shirt and tatty jeans. I guess it amuses me to take traditionally “epic” looking mythological entities, like Death or God, and make them completely and utterly unimpressive.
The recently deceased gentleman in this story might be me. I don’t know. I used to work in a call centre, and I used to live half a life before I realised I had a life that wasn’t worth wasting. Maybe this ficlet is symbolic of the death of my former self? The one who just worked in a call centre because he felt he was beneath everything else. The one who was in a relationship he didn’t want to be in because he’d settled. The one who had the same sandwich for lunch, day-in, day-out, because he was scared of trying something new. Or maybe it’s not. I’m sure I wouldn’t know.
In Retrospect…
I think God’s casual, rough dialect is perhaps a little over-the-top. I could have probably just got away with dropping t’s and g’s from the ends of words rather than dropping the h from “humans” and spelling “don’t with a u. Other than that, I’m pretty proud of this one.














