He sat restlessly in his office. Again. He was always restless. Bills make a man restless. Unpaid bills make a man worry. But he wasn't thinking about bills this time. He was thinking about what she said. Was it true? Could it be true. He weighed up all the angles, and still couldn't figure it out. The broad turned his head like a airplane propeller and he didn't like it one bit. He was fighting against the truth though. He knew she was right, but he hated to admit it. He opened the drawer and poured a shot of sour, and threw it back. It didn't help any. She was till right, and it didn't matter how many shots he drank and how many luckies he smoked. It
the best thread evah...
― Dave B (daveb), Monday, 22 September 2003 12:17 (twenty years ago) link