This Has Not Been A Good Week

I HAB A CODE IN MY NODE.

About three days ago I sneezed and I said to myself, “Uh, oh. That was no ordinary sneeze. That felt like a head cold type of sneeze. I was right. The next morning I woke up with my first real nasty head cold in a couple of years.

It has been at least two years, maybe more, since I’ve had to deal with the aches and pains, sneezes, and all of the other fun symptoms of your garden variety head cold. I guess my lucky streak was over.

I knew it wasn’t the Flu or Ebola or anything serious. There isn’t any major coughing, or tummy trouble or bleeding from all body orifices – just the usual yucky stuff.

I’m telling you now – buy stock in the folks who make Kleenex because I am going through it as a vicious clip. I am burning through those tissues faster than Rosie O’Donnell at the Caesar’s Palace Buffet line.

Fiction Saturday – And Pull The Hole In After You – Continued

Fiction Saturday – Continued

Chapter Four – Continued

 

Dominic shifted uneasily in his patio chair, cleared his throat, leaned closer to the Old Man and decided to take his chances with the truth—sort of.

“When she left, sir, she also took some money I had in the house.”

“How much?”  The Captain’s eyes focused coldly on Dominic.  Missing money was serious business.

“Six hundred large,” Dominic whispered.  The Old Man cupped a hand to his ear, straining to hear.  Dominic had to repeat it, louder.  “Six hundred large, sir.”

Everybody on the porch perked up.  One of the young men let out a low whistle.  The Old Man shifted in his chair and stared at Dominic for what seemed like a minute before speaking.

“That’s a lot of money, Dominic,” he said softly.  “Why do you have so much in the house?  Where did you get it?  You have a little action going on the side I should know about?”

“No, sir.  I’m just careful with my money.  I’m … thrifty.”  Dominic could feel that his shirt was damp and beginning to stick to his skin.

“Cheap, you mean,” chuckled the Old Man.  Reflexively his musclemen joined in. Dominic squirmed and tugged at his shirt collar which had suddenly become too tight.

 “It’s for expenses, sir.  To pay my boys…and I like to have some cash for emergencies and, you know, opportunities.”  This was getting more uncomfortable by the minute.

But, That’s Just Me.

“WE’RE HAVING A HEAT WAVE – A TROPICAL HEAT WAVE.”

It’s not often that one can quote Marilyn Monroe.

We have been having a real, honest to God, hot spell here in Terre Haute (That’s French for, “I’m stuck to the leather sofa.”)