John stepped out the back door, across the deck, and into his lawn. The dry, brown grass crunched as small clouds of dust billowed beneath his shoes with each step. It was only ten, and already the mercury was into the nineties.
Still, John smiled. No rain meant no mowing. A happy Father’s Day indeed!
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Oh no! The big game and Trina’s company dinner are on the same night. What’s Mac going to do?
“I know,” Mac thought. “I’ll hide a tiny radio in my pants pocket and run the earphones up my coat sleeve. No one will ever notice!”
*****
Mark changed the channel confident he’d seen that episode before.
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John couldn’t breathe. He was stunned by what he reading. The details were too familiar, too fresh for the truth to be anything else. How could this be? He had always thought his marriage a happy one, but the anonymous blog on monitor in front of him was as plain as day:
www.ihatemymarriage.com
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Tim paused the game and set the Wiimote on the couch next to him. His stomach rumbled like Old Faithful in those old cartoons. He thought back on the day. Nothing unusual… just the salad bar with his folks before they left from the campus visit.
*****
His bowels rebelled: “Aahhh!!! Vitamins and minerals… Run away!”
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She wondered, as the last dishes crashed to the floor, how she would pay for all sixteen settings, the auto mechanic and the roofers. She decided to worry later, figuring there would be plenty of time to work out a solution while recovering from the fractures no doubt sustained while knocking over the display cabinet.
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I liquidated my investments long ago. The real estate holdings went not long afterwards. Now I slowly placed the last of my cash, one bill at a time, into the gleeful hands of the man sitting across the table from me.
I was finished… washed up… not a penny left to my name.
Freakin’ Monopoly!
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“Calm down.”
“I can’t!”
“Look, it’s not a big deal. It’s not like it’s far away or a real hardship. These things happen.”
“I know! You’re not helping!”
“Seriously… calm down. You’re being completely unreasonable.”
“Damn it! I know I’m being unreasonable! If I could help it I could.”
“We can buy another TV remote.”
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Jimmy ricocheted down the hall like a pinball until he reached the last bedroom door. He tip-toed through the midnight gloom and crawled into bed.
“Jimmy, what are you doing?” came a woman’s tired voice over the sound of a man’s snore.
Pondering the question a moment Jimmy replied, “Mom, I drink I’m stunk.”
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It was finally time. The most glorious moment in sports had finally arrived. The Tipoff for March Madness. Nearly 24 solid hours of basketball would be crammed into the next two days.
Stuck at the office, he hurried to his computer and began typing:
http://cbs.sportsline.com/
“What! Access denied! Where’s the network administrator!”
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Startled, I arose and stumbled into the den of our old home. Earlier that winter I had given up, but the sounds above me rekindling my dreams. Amidst a muffled cacophony I heard one rafter after another creak and moan. With a crash the red-suited man landed before me in a pile of debris.
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