“Much of your life is handed to you
upon a plate of destiny.” Steve gave Alicia a pen and watched her
sign.
“Destiny. Bosh.” She scribbled her
name at the bottom of the document and lit a cigarette. “You choose
your destiny. You make
your destiny.” She inhaled and curled her lips in a sneer. Her next
words floated out upon a bed of smoke: “That is why I am rich and
you are not.”
“You
can't choose the path your life takes. Not completely. Yeah, you can
steer, try to keep your life on track: Marry the right guy, like you
did. Work hard. Meet the right people. But in the end...”
“Excuses,
little brother.” She stood and walked to the window.
“Rich
or poor. Tall or short. Fat or thin. Genetics and fate. You just
can't control everything, Alicia.”
She
turned and smiled at her attorney. “I can.”
He
shrugged. There was not point in arguing with his sister.
“Are
we finished?”
He
nodded. “Yes. I'll file...”
“Don't
tell my children.”
“I
won't.”
“I've
always told them that my money would go to charity. But...” She
smiled. “They've learned to work hard. Why not reward them when I'm
gone?”
He
grinned. “Can't take it with you.”
“Oh,
I wish I could. Buy my way straight into heaven. How much do I owe
you?”
“On
the house. It was a quick job.”
“You're
too honest. That's why you're always broke.” She waved and left his
office, a dingy building, by all accounts. Steve was lazy. He knew
it. His father had told him enough times. Lazy and unimaginative.
“Goodbye,
Alicia.” He watched his sister her pull from the curb and steer
towards the tragic accident he knew was waiting to happen, the
accident that he had arranged.
He
examined the modified will sitting upon his desk.
Good
thing his sister wasn't a stickler for details: Steve would inherit
everything.
Labels: fiction Trifecta Writing Challenge