Elsa Mon and the Case of the Impossible Paperwork

Welcome to The Spot Writers. The prompt for this month is to write a story in which someone pugnacious plays a major role.

This week’s contribution comes from Chiara De Giorgi. Chiara is an Italian author and currently lives in Berlin, Germany. She writes fiction, with a focus on children’s literature and science fiction.

Elsa Mon and the Case of the Impossible Paperwork

by Chiara De Giorgi

Created with Mistral AI

Dramatis Personae:

Elsa Mon: young intern at The Willow Gazette; teacher of creative writing; aspiring romance novel author. Can see and interact with ghosts and supernatural creatures. 
The Squatters: a community of ghosts dwelling in the abandoned house at the southern border of town. 
Sister Elena of Cremona: the ghost of an Italian nun who died by tumbling down a stair in the convent after stepping on a buttered slice of bread.
Olga: the ghost of a KGB assassin who died after drinking a poison-laced shot of vodka.
The Stranger: a shapeshifter who can turn into any object or living being.

 ***

Elsa had never seen stacks of paper so tall. Judging by their precarious balance, the only way to keep them from toppling was to never touch them—which explained why the town offices were so slow to process anything.

For months, she’d been juggling her internship at The Willow’s Gazette and the creative writing class she taught at the library. But no matter how hard she worked, she couldn’t keep up with the costs of the old house she’d inherited from her grandmother. That house was the last tie to her family, and the thought of losing it broke her heart. So, she’d decided to apply for every grant and historical preservation fund she could find. There was just one catch: for her house to qualify, it first needed to be officially listed as a historical building. And no one, until Elsa, had ever bothered to do that. Thus, she found herself trapped in the bureaucratic hellscape of endless paperwork.

The list of required documents was absurd. Every time she visited an office, ticking off the items on the latest list provided by some sleepy clerk, she’d be told something new was missing—or, just as maddeningly, that she’d included something unnecessary (though she’d learned by now never to throw anything away, as another clerk might demand it later).

Leaving the county offices with her head spinning and her arms full of even more paperwork, she decided to stop by the Squatters before heading home.

“Hmm.”

This was Sister Elena of Cremona’s comment after Elsa showed her the new list of documents required to classify the house as “historical.”

Elsa sighed and gratefully accepted a shot of vodka from Olga, ex-KGB assassin and Sister Elena’s best friend.

“If you’d like, I could take care of a couple of those clerks,” Olga offered. “You’ll see, the next one will accept whatever you give them, even if it’s just your Mickey Mouse sticker collection.”

Elsa nearly choked on her vodka. “No, no, thank you… I don’t think that’s, uh, necessary.”

“You think it’s too much? I could just rough them up a bit.”

“Olga, come on, you know that’s not right,” Sister Elena interjected. “What if they ask Elsa for more documents to prove she didn’t do it?” She chuckled.

Elsa groaned. “That’s definitely possible.” After a pause, she added, “It’s just that time is slipping through my fingers. I’m behind on payments, and if I don’t get Grandma’s house listed as historical, they’ll take it away before I can even apply for financial support.” Her eyes welled up.

“There, there,” said Sister Elena. “You just need a little… heavenly help.” She looked piously upward and clasped her hands.

“If only!” Elsa sighed, wiping her eyes.

“For starters, this list is ridiculous,” Sister Elena continued. “Listen to this: A 2,000-word essay detailing the house’s cultural and historical significance to the town, with bibliographic references.”

“Well, Elsa works at the library and writes for a newspaper. That shouldn’t be too hard,” Olga objected, cleaning her nails with a dagger at least 4 inches long.

“Whose side are you on?” Elsa protested.

“Sure, Elsa could do it,” Sister Elena said, “but why should she waste her time?”

“Instead of working on my romance novel…”

“Ah, right!” Sister Elena clapped her hands. “Where are you up to? Has the writer protagonist realized his goose quill is actually his muse in love with him?”

“No spoilers!” Olga yelled, covering her ears.

Elsa shook her head slightly at Sister Elena.

“Let’s keep going with the list!” Olga ordered. “What else do these bureaucrats want?”

Sister Elena cleared her throat and read on: “The original architectural blueprints of the house, signed by the builder. And a report from a certified engineer attesting that the house hasn’t collapsed in the last 200 years and isn’t likely to in the future.”

“Don’t you have a real estate agent in your creative writing class?” Olga asked. “I’m sure he’d be happy to help.”

“True!” Elsa said, brightening as she jotted a note on her phone.

“Anything else?”

“Ah, listen to this: The names and addresses of all previous owners.”

Olga burst out laughing. “Imagine how fun it’ll be to discover they all live at the same address: the Willow Cemetery!”

“So, what can I do?” Elsa groaned. “Of all the times for the Stranger to leave! She always knows how to convince people to do what she wants.”

Sister Elena stood up, all five feet of her, and looked Elsa in the eye. “I’ll help you. These absurd requests will disappear, or my name isn’t Sister Elena of Cremona!” She raised her arms to the sky, letting a cascade of documents flutter to the floor.

When Elsa returned to the county offices with her folder stuffed with the previously rejected documents, Sister Elena went with her. She was certain they’d leave victorious, with the paperwork approved and Grandma’s house officially listed as historical.

The clerk who greeted them looked sleepy and uninterested. Elsa flashed a dazzling smile to him and handed over the folder. He began flipping through it with extreme boredom. When he reached the end, he looked up and said, “You’re missing the certification of the original paint used on the exterior walls, verified by a historical color analyst. Oh, and signed statements from at least three neighbors confirming the house’s historical value. Not to mention—”

At that moment, a loud boom made him jump. Sister Elena giggled. Creating noises in people’s heads was a skill she’d recently discovered by accident. Then she whispered in the clerk’s ear, “Let it go. Accept the documents without objection, and nothing bad will happen to you.”

The clerk jumped again and looked around, terrified.

“Everything alright?” Elsa asked sweetly.

“I… The… Uh… Certifi—”

Another boom and the voice in his ear: “Maybe you didn’t understand. We can keep this up forever, or we can end it now.”

The clerk swallowed and looked at Elsa, who continued smiling innocently.

“Now that you mention it,” he said, clearing his throat, “those documents I mentioned…”

“Yes?” Elsa blinked.

“They’re no longer needed,” Sister Elena suggested. “The rules have changed.”

“They’re no longer needed!” the clerk exclaimed, brightening. “The rules have changed!”

He grabbed a stamp and began furiously stamping every page, his sleepiness and boredom vanished.

“So, is everything in order?”

The man nodded, still stamping with energy. Finally, he handed Elsa a gold-embossed certificate declaring her grandmother’s house officially historical.

“Come back anytime!” he said with exaggerated enthusiasm, waving as Elsa left.

“Oh, I will,” she replied, waving back. Then, under her breath to Sister Elena: “That is, never again.”

Sister Elena chuckled.

That evening, the Squatters threw a party. Olga brought the vodka, Sister Elena recited a prayer (or possibly a curse, that was unclear), and for the first time in months, Elsa felt slightly less overwhelmed.

 

The Spot Writers—Our Members:

Val Muller: http://www.valmuller.com/blog/
Catherine A. MacKenzie: https://writingwicket.wordpress.com/wicker-chitter/
Phil Yeats: https://alankemisterauthor.wordpress.com
Chiara De Giorgi: https://chiaradegiorgi.blogspot.com/