Friday, June 7, 2013

55: Best Served Cold

He had no idea I’d be there; the look on his face was priceless.

Later, when his wife was questioned, she’d report that he’d failed to meet her, that she thought he’d missed his flight, since that had happened before.

But in reality, he was becoming a permanent part of the new terminal’s concrete foundation.
* * * * *
FFF-55 Vol. LVII. Tell a story in exactly fifty-five words. Go see G-Man.

Wednesday, June 5, 2013

Haiku: Childhood Memory

Pole in hand, I walk
The trail, clunking along with
My dad's tacklebox

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