Disperser, Week Twenty-Five – Almost New (Redux)

by disperser

I must be quick . . . they are coming for me.  I see the light of torches, the shadows of the pitchforks . . . incensed readers, tired of excuses, tired of being treated like second-class fourth-class citizens.

I can’t blame them, really.   Sure, I got excuses I could throw back at them, but excuses are  useless against rusty pitchforks.  I could lay claim to dealing with  a water leak on Friday, and to buying not one, but two new phones on Saturday, and to chores and cleaning the basement yesterday . . . but they won’t care.  Bastards!  . . . er . . . I mean, demanding bastards!   

But . . . no, it’s not them . . . I made a commitment, I sign up for it, I said it would be a snap.  A couple of thousand words a week?  I knock that out in my sleep!  What’s that?  A couple of thousand of quality words a week?  Why, that’s just crazy talk!  . . . all my stuff is quality; I inspect it myself!  

Here; I will show you!  Three more short stories . . . just one thing . . . my inspections . . . they might have been a tad rushed.  Please excuse any bad grammar, misspellings, plot holes, poor characterization, and awful dialogue.  Other than that, it’s pure gold, I tell you. 

Once again I will post each one separately, thus allowing for individual feedback on each.  And no, there be no polls this week; I just don’t feel all that clever.


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