the eye

dweye

“You’re up third, Saturday,” said Roger.  “Five minutes.  Come half an hour early or you lose your spot.”

“Really?  I got five minutes?”

I walked to the bar, exuberant.

“I got five minutes!”  I said to Bob and Drew.  “I got five minutes!”  I said to Jack.

“Everybody gets five minutes, asswipe,” said Jack.  “You’d have to be the most unfunny son-of-a-bitch in Cincinnati to not get five minutes.  And they’d still give you five minutes.”

“Great,” I said.  “I can live with that.”

 

The second chapter of Plrknib is up.  Click here to continue.

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