ROMAN SHORT FICTION

Using an Obituary Template for Meeting Notes

February, Anno DCCLXXIV Ab Urbe Condita (A.U.C.)
(February, 18, 2019)

ChatGPT 4o (openai.com)

It began innocuously enough. A late night, an empty wine goblet, and a mind meandering through the chaos of an unfinished quarterly report. The notes were banal: “Follow up on supply chain delays,” “Discuss budget cuts.” Dull. Lifeless. They needed something. Something… final.

That’s when it came to me: an obituary template. Not one I created, mind you. It had appeared mysteriously in my papers earlier that day, wedged between my account ledgers and a memo from HR. It was strange, but its phrasing had a certain… gravitas.

“Here lies the initiative for Q2 regional sales expansion,” I wrote, “beloved by shareholders, survived by its competitors. Services to be held pending approval from upper management.”

The notes practically wrote themselves. Each agenda item became an epitaph. “R.I.P. cost-saving measures; death by committee.” “In loving memory of innovation, which succumbed to bureaucracy at the age of 3 months.” I closed the document with a somber footer: “We mourn the time lost in this meeting and hope it finds peace.”

The response was electric. My coworkers whispered. My boss — not a man prone to laughter —…