Esi Adoma


Swiss-Ghanaian. Far more Ghanaian than Swiss, to be honest. I write all kinds of things, most of which I will never show to anyone I know in real life.


November 10, 2017


Snapping open the suitcase, I reached for the case. Lifting it out of the suitcase, I set it on the table and donned a face mask and rubber gloves. Carefully, I opened the case. There it was. The parasite. Project A.V.O.C.A.D.O.
“Alien Virus Operating Cleverly Amongst Doomed Omnivores.”
It hadn’t been hard to get it here, the bumbling fools in charge of security at the airport hadn’t even caught wind of what was going on. They had actually stopped the suitcase after scanning it and called me down. I’d gone in ready to argue my case only to be told that the bag had moved on and the guy in charge of scanning had forgotten why he’d stopped it in the first place. Such incompetence. Still, it works better for me that way.
Chuckling at the memory, I lifted Project A.V.O.C.A.D.O out of the case and onto the inbuilt cutting board on the table. Grabbing a knife I sliced it carefully from top to bottom. With my gloved covered hands, I pried the protective green layers apart. I reached for my tweezers. Carefully, I picked out the big brown sphere in the middle of one half of the A.V.O.C.A.D.O. Lifting it up, I studied it closely. The pit. The parasite itself. The core of Project A.V.O.C.A.D.O.
I carried it over to the freshly dug hole and carefully placed it inside. Retracting the tweezers, I brushed the dirt back into the hole, covering up the parasite. Patting down the dirt, I smiled to myself. Mission accomplished. Standing up, I closed the case and sealed the remainders of project A.V.O.C.A.D.O in a ziplock bag. Picking up the suitcase I turned and walked away. This was the beginning of the end.
Inspired by the time I brought an avocado with me to Europe without knowing it was illegal.


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  • November 10, 2017 - 2:29am (Now Viewing)

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