
Margot listened to the caller drone on and on. He had not heard a thing she had said through his cellular static. Altogether, it wasn’t not that unusual, but disheartening nonetheless.

Margot listened to the caller drone on and on. He had not heard a thing she had said through his cellular static. Altogether, it wasn’t not that unusual, but disheartening nonetheless.
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“What do you mean I can only have four? I need 24.” The young man twitched, put his hand in and out of his pocket twice and shifted his eyes somewhere off to the left and back. “Look, I have four. Do you want them?”
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“Why don’t you take out the trash, Marvin?” He dragged the bin to the roadside.
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What was the sound in his head? It was almost like hammering. Or was it drumming? Sometimes, it is hard to differentiate between the two. What he did know was it was a horror soundtrack waiting to be unveiled for the masses.
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Paper peonies and polyester pansies look out of place in the cut crystal vase centered on the nicked and stained butcher block table. For the third time, she waves dust from the sunbeam piercing the filmy, dining room window.
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