Michael saw the notification as he was about to plug his device to charge.
It was from Facebook.
Noting that the red indicator that was evidence of turbo charging was on, Michael unlocked the phone and navigated to his Facebook app. It was a comment on a short story he'd done the previous day. He opened it and his brow furrowed. He didn't understand it even after rereading. It read:
"So, Mr. Perfect Grammarian makes mistakes too? Hahaha, edit "tittle" to "little", please. You're welcome. Lolz."
Still frowning, he scrolled up to read his story again.
He broke into a laugh when he got to where the friend referenced his use of the word "tittle". The laugh was in acknowledgment of the crux of the matter. He recalled what he believed to be the genesis of the whole affair.
This friend, Didier, who felt Michael's story needed editing, had made a grammatical blunder of some epic proportions in a Facebook post previously. As was his custom, Michael had pointed out the error and suggested alternatives for editing in one of the several comments the post elicited. But Didier wasn't having it. He felt it was extremely embarrassing and shockingly insensitive. He made it brazenly clear to Michael in a scathing inbox message that was so bitter, Michael both apologised and deleted the comments he made suggesting the edits.
But it appeared that that didn't satisfy Didier. The comment about "tittle" that Michael now read again with understanding this time was proof. Michael laughed one more time, shaking his head.
"Is that how you want it, Didier?" Michael was known for soliloquising when confronted by a challenge. He believed Didier had devoted his time to frequent scanning and grammar-checking every post he made since that incident. And having seen this, believing to have nailed Michael, he'd jumped on the opportunity for getting his pound of flesh.
But, how unfortunate Didier was, Michael ruminated to himself. He was sure he'd made some errors in the past which Didier could have capitalised on and applied effectively to score brownie points and they'd both have been square. But, Didier missed those chances. Now, he'd picked on what was absolutely a correct use of the word "tittle" to wage his vendetta? Michael had applied the word in the exact sense he wanted to convey with the meaning of the word as defined in the English dictionary. Maybe Didier had no knowledge of the word's existence and his thirst for payback blinded his sense to verify. Maybe. How. Truly. Unfortunate.
Michael closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He let it out slowly. He opened his eyes, summoned up his keyboard by tapping the "Reply" link under Didier's comment and flexed his fingers.
Didier thought the first instance between them was "extremely embarrassing and shockingly insensitive." Michael hoped Didier had his doctor's phone number on speed dial. Didier might be needing expert help by the time he was done with the reply he was just beginning to compose.
