A Tribute To Ms. Gossips-A-Lot (standard:humor, 900 words)
Author: Godspenman	Added: May 04 2025	Views/Reads: 7/0	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
It is so easy to gossip. However, gossip only causes harm and is never good when considering the subject. I want to build people up, not tear them down.

I was sitting in the shopping mall, drinking coffee and taking a break.
I don't like going to the mall, but sometimes I have to go and pick up 
something for The Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage. Sometimes, I 
think she does it on purpose, knowing how much I dislike it. I try to 
make the most of it. 

While drinking coffee, I watched people pass by. I can't understand why
so many people like coming to the mall. 

Suddenly, I saw someone I recognized—or at least, I thought I
recognized. It was my great-aunt. That would be my grandmother's 
sister, who passed away about 25 years ago. How could she be in the 
mall here today? Or, is it her ghost? 

Staring at her as she walked by, I couldn't help but believe she was
either my great-aunt or an identical substitute. Everything about her 
reminded me of my great-aunt. 

I haven't thought about my great-aunt for many years. She's been
deceased now for 25 years. Sitting there thinking about her, many 
things came to mind. 

The first thing was that she was the biggest gossiper in the whole town.
It was a small town, but she knew everything that was happening there. 

Her job was delivering mail, and she would stop at my grandmother's
mailbox daily. They would catch up on a lot of things. Together, they 
both knew everything that ever happened or would happen in that little 
town. 

I couldn't help but chuckle as I thought of the stories associated with
her. I never told her or my grandmother that I referred to her as Ms. 
Gossips-A-Lot. I'm unsure where the name came from; I just made it up. 
But if anybody knew how to gossip, it was her. 

It was always a wonderful time to sit down with my great-aunt and listen
to the stories she told. I never knew if those stories were true, but 
she presented them to me, and at the time, I believed them to be true. 

All I had to do was mention a name, and she would go on and on about
that person. She knew more about that person than that person probably 
did. And the critical aspect is that she knew where all the dead bodies 
were buried, so to speak. She had dirt on just about everybody in town. 
She could have been a politician. 

Several times she told me, "Son, the more you know about somebody the
more you can control them." And believe me, she was a control freak on 
every level. 

Everybody in town feared talking in front of her. They knew whatever
they said would be conveyed to other people. They were kind to her and 
smiled a lot at her, but they did not like sharing any information with 
her. 

The more I got to know my great-aunt, the more I learned how to control
her. I'm not a control freak, but sometimes I like to pull pranks on 
people. Ms. Gossips-A-Lot was a prime subject for some of my pranks. 

Sometimes, as we sat and talked, I would calmly say, "Auntie, did you
hear what Mr. Smith down the road did the other night?" 

That kind of question always gets her undivided attention. She is
nervous that somebody will know something about someone she doesn't 
know. That's not the way she plays her harp. 

Looking at me seriously, she would lean toward me and whisper, "No, what
did Mr. Smith do the other night? I haven't heard anything." 

I didn't live in the town, but about 100 miles away. There's just no way
I would know anything about anybody Auntie didn't know. She couldn't 
take a chance that I knew something she didn't. 

Sitting there, I told a story about Mr. Smith, which I had made up. The
more I talked about Mr. Smith, the more Auntie's eyes widened. She had 
a hard time dealing with me knowing something about someone she didn't. 


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