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A Worse Idea 94

Within minutes, Griselda responded to Anne’s kill confirmation.


For the first time in quite a while, Anne smiled. She smiled so wide her mouth hurt.

She started laughing. Threw her phone onto the bed and began making a fist-pumping motion.

An ungodly amount of money transferred from the account of the guy whom she’d hacked and went into Griselda’s account.

Anne didn’t give a shit. It wasn’t her money!

She found it a bit odd, remembering what actual happiness felt like. It wasn’t a distraction from the sadness, it wasn’t a laugh about a bitter joke. It was an emotion all its own, a lifestyle she was glad to have found again.

She began to do a little dance.

“Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!” she yelled.

For a second, a pang of anxiety threatened to ruin her good mood. Am I supposed to respond to Griselda? Like, how would you even begin to do that?

“Thx 4 murdering someone 4 me, *smiley face emoji*” just didn’t feel right to Anne.

“Ah, the money is thanks enough,” she said, talking to herself.

She thought about other things that would make her happy. One thing in particular stood out: the murder of Galactic Man.

Before, when she’d thought about killing Galactic Man, it’d been something to keep her going. It’d been a consolation, a need, a burning rage.

But now? It was just something she was excited about.

She ran into the bathroom and looked herself in the mirror, “You are going to murder the shit out of Galactic Man, and it is going to be awesome.”

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