the greeter

 

 

I think, when I grow up, I want to be the neighborhood Stasi. Yeah, that's right. I could even work from home.

Maybe I could get a franchise, or like a sales territory. I'd work for commission. You can make good if you've got hustle.

 

I'd approach it as though it were a position at Walmart ... as a greeter! Yeah, that's the ticket. 

 

In my wizened, frail state, I could be ingratiatingly pitiful, a harmless old codger fussing his last days away, butting in at the most inopportune moments, at once both harmless and annoying. 

 

"Aye?" I'd croak, irritating as any crow before dawn.

 

Then I'd wet my beak with every muttered utterance under their breath ...

 

 

 

the deleted, part 2

by fred flynn

part two of three

to read part one, click here

orville looked at the new message. the new message was - “you were warned”. orville immediately saved it and forwarded it to the contact he had tried before. as he pressed “send” it ocurrred to him that he could have sent it to a different threat/extortion line. there was no shortage of them. maybe some were more “official” than others. but it was too late. * the next afternoon, just before quitting time, he was summoned to the human resources office. it was the first time he had visited it since he had been hired five years earlier. he had never complained, or been complained about, or caused trouble. he recognized the woman from human resources. she looked exactly as he remembered her from five years before, and she had the same two pictures, of a cat and a dog, on her desk. two people orville had never seen before, a man and a woman, were also waiting for him. they were seated on hard chairs to the human resources woman’s right. the man wore a blue shirt with a white tie and looked like a wolf. the woman wore a light green shirt with a black bow tie and looked like a cat. there was a third hard chair in front of the human resources woman’s desk, and she pointed to it, and orville sat down on it. these people are from security, the human resources woman said to orville. they have a few questions to ask you. orville noticed that she did not say good morning to him or address him by name - not very encouraging signs, he thought. for the first time he noticed the woman’s resemblance to an octopus. you sent a message to the extortion hotline a few days ago, the wolf man said to orville, about a supposed message you had received. am it correct? yes i did, orville replied why did you do that? because i received a message i thought had a threatening tone. but there was no message. there was a message. i forwarded it. there was no message, except one you tried to fabricate yourself. no, there was, orville insisted weakly. the cat woman spoke. society has had quite enough of pranksters like you, and we know how to deal with you. i know you and your friends think it is all a big joke, but we can not have you overloading the system just to amuse your little scorpion brains. orville had never been compared to a scorpion before, and he did not think it fair. he opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. please take this seriously, the wolf man said. you have been warned, the cat woman added. with that, the wolf man and the cat woman got up and left. orville was left alone with the octopus woman. shall i go back to work? orville asked her. no, you have been terminated. please leave the building immediately. your movements will be tracked and if you do not follow this order immediately blah blah blah you know the rest. i have a picture in my work space, orville said. may i retrieve it? it will be forwarded to you, the octopus woman said. if you have any place to forward it to. and for the first time, she not only smiled, but laughed. end of part 2

the deleted

by fred flynn

part one of three

orville always checked his messages when he arrived home at night and just before he went to sleep. if he had a delay in his commute home, he would check the messages during the delay. he did this because he had been reprimanded once for not immediately reading a special message from his employer. these messages were not frequent. nor did he ever get any personal messages. he also got a few unsolicited messages. not many, because he never bought anything online, preferring to do almost all his shopping at the company store, where he received a company discount. one night he received an unsolicited message. the sender was listed simply as “program” and the message read: you have been selected to take part in an experimental program. please respond immediately. this was similar to messages he had received before, maybe a bit more terse than most. he deleted it without thinking. the next night he received the same message, marked “second request”. again, he deleted it without thinking. then on the next night, he got the same message, this time in bold letters, marked “third request” and with the additional text - “please take this seriously. this is your last warning.” “last warning”? orville had never seen anything like that in a junk message before. it was actually - threatening. orville was, and always had been, a peaceful law-abiding citizen. he was not at all used to such language. he wondered if he should report it. he was not sure who he should report it to. he searched for information about threatening messages. all the responses seemed to be about being threatened with exposure about something, usually about sexual activities. orville knew that such things did not apply in his case. he had done nothing wrong, had in fact done nothing much of anything, ever. but contacts were listed, of persons, or at least numbers, who could be notified if a person felt they were being threatened or extorted. orville slept badly that night. he usually slept soundly and was ready to get up and go to work in the morning. he resolved to contact one of the numbers he had found listed, and did so on his lunch hour. he was instructed to forward the offending messages- but when he went to do so they were gone! he texted back - i am sorry but the messages have been deleted. he did not receive a reply to this message by the time he was ready to go back to his room... his phone beeped as soon as he closed the door behind himself. as if it had been waiting for him. part 2

the friend

by bofa xesjum

stanley woke up. he wondered what time it was. he needed his own space. because the gravity of the situation was dawning on him. he decided to go out and get some fresh air. but first he needed a glass of water. after he drank the glass of water, he realized he was hungry. there was no food in the room, because he had eaten the last powdered minidonut before he had gone to sleep the night before. how long ago it seemed! suddenly he remembered jennifer, but he quickly banished her from his mind. the age of romance was over, big time. i was thinking the same thing myself, the voice in his brain said. you must think i am pretty stupid, stanley told the voice in his brain, whose name was vincent. i am just a lucky so and so, vincent replied, to have such a friend as you.. stanley was one of those people who was born consumed with ambition. but as the years had gone by, he had come to realize that life was a game he could not win. the words of dr desmond came back to haunt him. you can paint a thousand pictures, but no picture will paint you. it had seemed so profound at the time, when he and vincent and jennifer had their regular picnics on the banks of the gently flowing river. he decided to go out and buy another pack of powdered minidonuts. surely the nice lady at the bodega would listen to his sad story and give him credit for the donuts. he had been such a good customer! he had been such a good student, of madame la pierre’s. he had been such a good patient, of dr desmond’s. he had been such a good friend, to vincent and jennifer. now he had an overwhelming urge for a powdered mimidonut! just one! suddenly there was a knock on the door. the one he had been waiting for all his life. who could it be? are you in there, richard? the voice came from beyond the door. we are starting to get worried about you.

fifteen minutes

by nick nelson

fifteen minutes before the end of the work day, mr adams emerged from his private office and invited the entire staff into the private office for what he called “a quick meeting”. the staff members, all of whom had worked in the office for at least seven years, and the longest serving for over thirty years, were astonished. what could it mean? mr adams almost never came out of his office, or interacted in any face to face way with the staff. if he had anything to communicate, he always did so by interoffice email. he never even used zoom, so that his face could not be seen, and his mood guessed at, by the expression on his face. mr adams almost always arrived at the office before any of the staff, with a cup of coffee from starbucks, and with his lunch in a brown paper bag. he had never been known to leave the office for lunch, nor had he ever invited any of the staff for lunch, nor had he ever been known to have lunch with a client. over the years, and for some of the employees, decades, there had been a great deal of speculation as to what mr adams did all day, behind his closed door. the most widely held view was that mr adams was a visitor from another planet, or from a future age. this explanation was usually considered complete in itself, and not needing further elucidation. as, for example, what the exact purpose of the space or time traveler’s visit was. the second most widely held view was that mr adams watched porn all day. there were variations on this, such as that he had a blow up sex doll in the office, or that he brought a new doll in to the office every day in the brown paper lunch bag. and the third most widely held view was that mr adams did absolutely nothing all day. another explanation was that mr adams was in deep eternal mourning for a wife, or a child, or a pet. or that he was the leader, or a follower, of a vast conspiracy, nazi, communist, satanic or whatever. or of a small cult. or that he operated, or was a minion of, a world wide child porn or prostitution ring. or that he exercised all day ( but he did not look particularly fit, and always wore loose shapeless suits so that his physical condition was difficult to judge). or that he practiced yoga, or did deep breathing exercises. other scenarios, even more mundane or more elaborate, were floated, but did not gain any adherents now, after all these years, the staff were to be invited into his office! what would they see? what would be revealed? jenkins, a long time proponent of the time traveler theory, turned to perkins, the most certain adherent of do nothing at all theory. it’s too bad, jenkins said, that old farmer is not here to see this. farmer, who had worked at the firm for thirty-four years, had died suddenly three months earlier. he would never know what was in mr adams’s office.

pale moon

by nick nelson

frank and jesse were standing on the corner. a pale moon came up over the warehouse. billy came along. where you headed, billy? frank asked. down to the river, billy answered promptly. to do what? jesse asked. to meet the man. frank and jesse both laughed. you don’t go down to the river to meet the man, frank said. you don’t ? billy asked. no, dude, jesse said, you go down to the river to shoot your old lady. oh. but you are not going down to the river to shoot your old lady, are you? frank asked. no, i was not planning on that. because you don’t have a gun, jesse suggested. that is true, billy agreed or an old lady, frank added. frank and jesse both laughed. but if you want an old lady you might find one down by the river, jesse said. you might find a gun too, if you look hard enough, frank added. i could? billy asked. you never know what you can find in the trash cans down by the river, jesse said. or under the bushes, frank said. billy took his hat off and scratched his head. you guys are confusing me, he said. we didn’t mean to do that, billy, jesse assured him. billy put his hat back on. if i can’t find the man down by the river, he asked, what am i going to do? try the park, frank told him. the park? can i find the man at the park? right at the front entrance. you can’t miss him. he wears a big black hat just like stagger lee used to wear. is he stagger lee? billy asked doubtfully. no, stagger lee is dead. he is in outlaw heaven, jesse added, looking down on us even as we speak. this guy’s name is chuck. so should i tell him frank and jesse sent me? no, you moron, tell him percival sent you. percival, can you remember that? i can remember that. then you might as well head on over before you forget. billy left. after a while wyatt came along. you boys behaving yourselves? you can see for yourself, sheriff, we are not up to any mischief. the mayor is driving by in a little while, with some important gentlemen from out of town. i don’t want you two messing up the landscape with your unsightly presences. aw, sheriiff, we thought this was a free country. i got a couple of bunks in the jailhouse you are free to spend the night in, if you don’t move along. frank and jesse moved along, slowly. wyatt stood for a while, chewing on his straw, miss laura lee came along, swinging her handbag like a do-si-do. howdy, sheriff. howdy, miss laura. a lovely evening, sheriff. indeed it is, miss laura. i was just thinking how pleasant it is, perfect for the mayor to drive by with his important guests from out of town, and no riff raff on the streets. i get your drift, sheriff. why, i was talking to my dear friend madame marie just this evening, and we were remarking on what a lovely town this used to be, filled with churchgoing folks who knew how to mind their own business. that is very nicely put, miss laura. well, i will not detain you , sheriff, i know you must be a busy man, with busy business to attend to. good night, miss laura. good night, sheriff. miss laura drifted off, leaving the sheriff to his thoughts. the sheriff looked down the street. it was empty, with no wind, and no sign of rain. a light went on in a window.

lorelei, part 2

by horace p sternwall

part two of two

click here to read part one

what are you doing here, harry? trudy asked. what are you doing here? harry asked her. where’s maxine? where’s maxine? where’s maxine? what are you trying to pull, harry? harry pushed trudy aside and went into the apartment. the apartment was clean anyway, but there was no sign of maxine, or of anybody else. trudy kept jabbering behind harry’s back. you got a nerve, harry. you got a nerve showing up like this. get out of here before i call the cops. and so on and so on. harry had the stockings loose in his pocket. it looked like he was not going to strangle maxine with them, so he took one out and strangled trudy with it instead. * what was that all about? harry wondered when he got back down on the street. he hoped there wouldn’t be any complications or trouble about what he had just done. he would worry about it later. right now he had something better to do. meet lorelei. the address lorelei had given him was only five blocks away. it was completely dark when harry got there. the whole street was pretty dark, with only a few lights showing in the windows of the apartment buildings that seemed to take up the whole street. a long black car was parked in front of lorelei’s building. a short flight of steps led up to the front door. harry climbed them. he lit a match to read the buzzer numbers and found lorelei’s. he pressed it and waited. nothing happened. he pressed it again, and heard a voice behind him. are you harry? he turned around. a big guy in a heavy gray overcoat was standing on the sidewalk beside the long black car. i’m harry. you looking for lorelei? the big guy asked. yeah. i’m larry. her brother. get in, i’ll take you to her. harry walked down the steps. he tried to open the front passenger side door of the car but it was locked. get in the back, larry told him. it’s not locked. harry didn’t argue. he opened the door and got in the back. it had plenty of leg room. larry got behind the wheel and pulled out. it started to rain. larry turned on the windshield wipers. they squeaked. where are we headed? harry asked. southtown. why did lorelei give me this address in the city if she lives in southtown? harry asked. who knows? larry answered. right, harry thought. who knows anything? the end