WFH – Written by Dom Conlon

Satan sits in the kitchen and pours itself another cup of tea.

“I’m afraid it doesn’t work like that sir. You’re not the first to have raised the issue and it looks like you won’t be the last so the best we can do at this stage is to say we will look into it. I should warn you, however, that even if the system does get changed, it’s unlikely to affect you. These offers are rarely offered to past customers.”

It pauses, briefly.

“And before you raise the issue of original sin let me stop you. Original Sin was a proactive measure: it was a special case. Even so, it wasn’t designed to be retroactive; not that there were any people before Adam and Eve of course. So really, if you think about it, the point is moot.”

A gnarled finger reaches up to dab a sore that had been running since the Reformation.

“Limbo? Please. Don’t waste your breath. Look, the best I can do is to make a note indicating that you are sorry but really the fact that you were put through to me at all should tell you plenty.”

They always argued, of course they did. At one time Satan wondered why, wondered whether it was part of what made them survivors; what made them Favoured.

But then the sophistication of their arguments kicked in.

“There’s no need for language like that sir, you’re in enough trouble as it is. Let’s just get this started shall we?”

Satan stands, its tail sliding the chair across the laminate. The cup of tea had gone cold and a fresh pot was required.

Pressing hold on line 106,596,987,666, the horned one heaves a sigh loud enough to flatten mountains.

That’s the problem with working from home, it muses, you never truly switch off.

Words: 304