Boss by Gerardo Sámano Córdova
Image by Gerardo Sámano Córdova
Associate fiction editor Esperanza Vargas Macias on today’s bonus story: The best thing about “Boss” is the way each sentence steadily escalates the story, its peculiarity reaching new heights. Gerardo Sámano Córdova’s matter-of-fact storytelling coupled with this outlandish situation makes for a wild and immensely enjoyable ride.
Boss
My boss calls me into his office to tell me I’m fired. I tell him I love him. “Did you just say you love me?” “Ardently,” I respond. I tell him how distracted I’ve been by this love, how every time he has given me a task I fail to grasp it because I can only think of how I would undress him, how I’m eternally debating which part of his bare body I would touch first. He grabs the back of my head and kisses me. A pigeon stands outside his open window threatening to fly in. My boss’s tongue swipes my teeth as if he’s trying to clean them or push them down my throat. “Careful,” I tell him. “I have brittle teeth.” The pigeon jumps into my boss’s chair. The pigeon is the boss now. I push the man who kisses me away. I’m not a prude, in fact, I’m a guy who enjoys kissing men immensely—just not in my boss’s office. “Anything else, Boss?” I ask the pigeon. It coos. Twice. “I’ll get right on it,” I say and leave my boss’s office. The man who kissed me walks out a minute later, sad, he seems, to not have a job anymore.
Gerardo Sámano Córdova is a writer from Mexico City. He holds an MFA from the University of Michigan. His work has appeared in the Chicago Quarterly Review. He’s also been known to draw little creatures. Visit his instagram @samanito.
