[Short Story] Steps to Liberation #ThoseWhoLoseEverythingLiteraryAward

“Oh, hey. Can’t I send a fax with this?”

I called out to Ms. Matsunaga as she slipped past the multifunction printer. She turned around, and when she saw my face, she knitted her brows in annoyance.

“You can’t. Besides, Section Chief, our company has already banned faxes, hasn’t it?”

“But I want to send it quickly.”

“Even if it’s a hassle, please send the scanned data via email.”

I muttered “scan, scan” while poking at the printer. Perhaps unable to watch me any longer, she placed her documents on her desk and came back.

“If you’re in a hurry, I’ll send it for you.”

I thanked her and gave her the vendor’s name and contact information. Then, I heard a *snip* sound right by my ear.

It happened again. It was cut again.

Trying not to look suspicious to those around me, I casually cast my gaze about, and there was a boy floating right above my head. A boy with wings on his back and prominent snaggletooth was floating there, holding a large pair of scissors in both hands.

“Good for you, old man. You’ve been liberated from one more thing.”

The boy flew fluffily above my head as if to mock me. I’ve decided to ignore him unless I’m alone.

The world has changed drastically over these forty years. When I was a rookie, I used to immerse myself in work until late at night, making full use of my legs, the telephone, and the fax machine, but now it’s all computers, the internet, and email. Gaining trust by visiting in person and having face-to-face meetings is a thing of the past; now, both visits and phone calls are disliked. First email, and if that goes well, a web meeting. I feel like I’ve been desperately trying to keep up, but I’m pitied by young people who use katakana jargon, saying, “I’ll take over for you.” Every time I’m replaced, every time I become unnecessary, I’m cut away with a *snip, snip*.

When I reached retirement age, I received a bouquet from the branch manager along with the sound of a *snip*. Having done nothing but work, I have nothing to do at home. My wife began to look at me with distress as I sat in the living room all day, feeling like I had no ground to stand on.

Eventually, when my grandchild was born, I was allowed to hold the baby many times, more than I ever did for my own daughter.

My wife would feed the baby baby food in place of my daughter, who was doing other chores. When I quietly reached out with a spoon from the side, my daughter yelled at me fiercely.

“Don’t do things on your own. Sharing tableware is neglect. You don’t need to do anything, Dad.”

The moment she said that, I heard the *snip* sound again. The snaggletoothed boy grinned.

“Good for you, old man. You’ve been liberated from one more thing.”

It seems my body had weakened before I knew it, as I stopped going outside. I tripped on a step in the hallway I always walk down and fell. I fractured my femur and was forced to be hospitalized for a while. Although I returned home once after rehabilitation, I couldn’t make it to the toilet in time, and my daughter handed me disposable underwear.

"Good for you, old man. Now you're free from the toilet, too."

The boy said this and moved his scissors.

Not long after, I fell down in the house again. This time, I broke my hip joint and femur. I was transferred from the hospital where I was treated, and I could never return home from there. Every day became routine, with three meals of bland food that could be crushed with the tongue, and the distinction between yesterday, today, and tomorrow began to blur. My wife would show up almost every day, my daughter would come by occasionally, and sometimes my grandchild would come along too.

The boy flying above the bed moved his scissors with a snip-snip sound.

"Hey, kid. What did you just cut?"

"Old man, you don't need to worry about it. Just forget everything and be free."

The boy smiled, showing his snaggletooth to reassure me.

"Hey, kid. Who are you?"

"I'm just a guide. I'm helping you get free from the things that are tethering you to this world."

"Then are you an angel? Or a devil?"

"Well. You can call me whatever you like, old man."

When I suddenly realized it, everyone was around my bed. My wife, my daughter and her husband, and my grown-up grandchild.

Even when I tried to inhale, I couldn't take a deep breath, and when I tried to speak, my throat only made a wheezing sound. As if I were out in the cold wearing thin clothes, my limbs grew cold and my body stiffened. Within my body that I could no longer move well, I tilted my neck, the only part that could move, and looked toward my wife. My wife, with more gray hair now, looked at me and smiled gently.

"It's alright, Grandpa."

The moment I heard those words, there was a loud snip. Like a balloon with its string cut, my body floated up lightly. A small hand gripped my right hand.

"Come on, old man. This way."

Pulled by the boy, my body passed through the hospital ceiling, went above the clouds, and headed toward the vast sky.

(1,784 characters)

This story is a repost for the purpose of entering the following project.

The inspiration for this story comes from the following poem.

#Literary Award for Those Who Lose Everything