“I’m getting a signal from someone close to you.”
“Who is it? One of my grandparents?”
Short Story
Now see here mister! You’ve got nothing on me!..
I stopped short and looked at him. “I took a break…
“I don’t believe it,” she said softly.
“You don’t have to.” He shrugged. “But it’s true.” …
“Is it difficult, being the youngest brother?”
“I imagine it is for many youngest brothers…”
“Mr. Fitzgerald, do you believe in the American Dream?”
“Have you read my books?” …
Ms. Jones-Berger looks up without ceasing the click of her nails on the keys. “Do you have an appointment, sir?”
The thundercloud doesn’t budge from the young man’s face…
The young man stands before the desk at parade rest, not making eye contact.
“Sir, if you recall, I did say, ‘Suffer the little children.’ ”
The pause stretches for too many ticks of the clocks on the office wall…
“Sir, your four o’clock is here.”
“Ah, the after-school special!”
“Sir.”
“Send them in, Ms. Jones-Berger.”
The door opens and the young man enters, stepping to the side and ushering in a small person about the height of a yardstick.
“Sir, allow me to introduce the lovely Honeysuckle Titus.”
The small person steps forward, hands clasped behind her. The pale pink dress wavers in the wind from the giant ceiling fan. The face lifts toward the man behind the mahogany desk….
Ms. Austen, tell me, if you were one of the Bennett sisters, which would you be?
Why, Lizzie, of course. Though I should aspire to be tempered by Jane’s good nature….
Daily Poets 