“Get me Marcus Betts!” The plea sounded like a command to Marcus Betts even if it wasn’t. He shuffled his feet in place with his hands stuffed inside the pockets of his black nylon jacket, wondering if he was in trouble. He just spent $80 on these orthopedic black sneakers. You need good shoes in
Category: New Fiction
A voice with all the sex appeal of a federal tax audit called out to the crowd of people waiting in the reception area, “Mister DuMond? Mister DuMond? Kevin DuMond?” Jack Apple straightened up his six-foot frame in the custom-tailored suit he’d bought for the occasion, but it took a moment for him to recognize
David Budnick stood before a crowded room filled with hopeful, unemployed faces and announced, “This is a great day to get hit by a car.” It was getting harder and harder for David to find good employees. He had tried boosting pay, matching 401K contributions, adding vacation days and even lowering the hiring age to
“Coyote Bodhi is a simple man living a charitable life. Coyote Bodhi does not declare himself to be a healer of men. Coyote Bodhi makes no assertions on religious faith. Coyote Bodhi is not a medical practitioner. Coyote Bodhi is only a man who can be watched. Coyote Bodhi can be touched and felt.