Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 83281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Before I knew it, the monster was headed right for the kitchen window. I tried not to recoil when I saw him. He was wearing brown trousers, absolutely enormous work boots, and a tight white t-shirt that looked like it might rip off his body at any moment, like the freaking Incredible Hulk when he gets angry.
Under the normal looking clothes his skin was green—kind of a gray-green—a sage color. He had thick black hair and the tusks which had freaked me out earlier were still on display, jutting up from his bottom jaw. They curved up over his upper lip and as I looked at them, I realized what he reminded me of.
Living most of my social life (such as it is) online, I’ve done my fair share of gaming. I’m mostly into Baldur’s Gate and the Diablo franchise, but I’ve played quite a lot of World of Warcraft too. And what the monster guy coming up the hill looked like was a character from WOW—specifically, he looked like an Orc.
You have to understand that WOW Orcs aren’t like Lord of the Rings Orcs. They’re not slimy and greasy all over—they look more like a species of hugely muscular, overgrown elves—at least, they have pointed ears like elves. They’re also a lot bigger than elves—I estimated this guy was at least seven feet tall—and they’re not nearly as pretty either. Also, their green skin and curving tusks tend to show their heritage pretty clearly.
I couldn’t believe that I had been chased through the backyard by an honest-to-God Orc! I stared at him in disbelief as he came right up to the kitchen window and looked down at me, a scowl on his green face.
“Well?” he demanded, his deep voice muted only slightly by the pane of glass between us. “Let me see it.”
For a minute, I didn’t know what he was talking about. I’d gotten too caught up in the idea that a mythical figure was standing right outside my window. Then I remembered our deal—I’d show him the will and he would (hopefully) leave me alone.
“Here—read it and weep,” I snapped. And again I was surprised that the words came right out—not a single one got stuck in my throat.
I pressed my Grandma’s last will and testament against the glass. It was pretty crumpled at this point, but I hoped it was still legible.
The Orc leaned down from his great height and put his face close to the glass, which gave me a chance to study him up close. His tusks weren’t actually that huge—they were more like overgrown canines, I decided. I’d seen a lot worse playing WOW.
He wasn’t that ugly, either. He was actually kind of handsome for an Orc—not that I was in any way attracted to him, the big jerk—I hastened to assure myself.
“All right,” he said, straightening up at last. “I can tell that’s her handwriting. But if you’re her granddaughter, why didn’t you ever come to visit her? I saw how lonely she was—she could have used the company.”
“None of your business!” I snapped, stung by his words even though I hadn’t even remembered that my Grandma existed until that day.
He scowled.
“I guess you couldn’t make time for a visit—though you sure as Hell made time to come take over her house once she faded!”
Once again, his words hit home. In fact, they brought tears to my eyes—I would have loved to come visit my Grandma, if only I had known about her!
“You big asshole!” I said thickly, swiping at my eyes. “You don’t know anything about me or my relationship with my Grandma!”
He must have seen the tears in my eyes, because he looked suddenly stricken.
“Look, I didn’t mean—” he began.
“You’ve seen the will, now leave!” I snapped.
The big Orc actually had the grace to look ashamed of himself.
“Sorry,” he muttered. Then he turned and stumped back down the hill, his enormous work boots thudding solidly as he went.
I stood back from the window and swiped at my eyes again. Now I was imagining my Grandma in this big house all alone—baking brownies for a granddaughter who never came to visit…walking through the hallways by herself…sitting on the couch with nobody to talk to…
“I’m so sorry, Grandma,” I whispered. “I would have come if I could—I swear I would have!”
“Don’t worry, child. I do not blame you. All is well.” The little voice was back and this time it made me feel a little better. Was it the spirit of my Grandma? Or maybe just an echo of her that lived on in her house?
I didn’t know but I blew my nose on a paper napkin and decided to finish the tour. Hopefully some happier memories would invade my brain and help me stop thinking of my Grandma all alone and missing me, while I didn’t even remember she existed.