by Christian Kern
You know those mornings. The ones where you want to sleep in, dreams of the girl you met the night before and all the drink you down keep you snuggled up in bed. No work, no family even the dog can see himself out if he really needs to go because this is your day off. Yeah… I know those days; I don’t have them too often. That’s why I was rather ticked off when I heard the door bell.
Dragging myself out of bed I shambled down the steps. Tying my robe around my waist I opened the door and to my amazement was an elderly man.
“Listen buddy, I don’t know…” I blurted out. It was after all a really, really hot dream!
However my words were stolen from me as the interloper turned around. Grandfather Miller! My grandfather! The man who told me military stories my whole life growing up. The same Grandfather Miller who taught me all about welding was standing on my doorstep. The same goofy smile as he slipped his false teeth out of his mouth.
“Ain’tcha gonna invite me in?” He barked in that usual stern military voice.
All I could do was nod. It was after all my grandfather whom I had loved and adored… and mourned five years earlier when he died.
Yeah, he was dead, or supposed to be. So… I invited him. Least he catch his death… again.
He came in and removed his hat. The door shut behind him as he sat down.
“Christian…” he said in that gruff voice. “Sit down, son.”
I sat down. “Can I… get you anything?”
He coughed and said no. He went on to tell me I don’t talk to my mother enough. That I haven’t been cleaning his grave off and that took me by surprised. He fiddled with the Bible and laid it down on the side table.
“Christian, I’m here because you’re going to do something and it’s going to entirely stupid. And I’m here to stop you.”
I sat and listened to him go on about a job I haven’t had yet. So not only was my dead grandfather here in my house lecturing me, reading me the riot act about my mother, he was warning me about a job I haven’t even been offered yet.
“So…” I began, “You’re like a ghost… from the future?”
“Idiot…” he spouted off as he stood up. He folded down his jacket and moved to the door. He turned around to me and smiled. “Remember what I told you.” And he left simple as that.
I woke up. It wasn’t my ringing door bell it was my phone! A dream, it had been a dream and now I was supposed to answer my phone. Where was it? As I leaned over the side of the bed. It was a really, really hot dream, did I mention that? I found the phone and clicked ‘talk’.
“Hello?” I asked.
“Mr. Kern? Christian Kern?” the voice on the other end spoke, “I’m Reginia Walters with Bio-Dime Engineering, and we received your resume and would like to schedule an interview…”
I hung up…
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