The Sandwich Board
I got the grease gun up under the axle of chute four and squeezed until the fitting took what it wanted.
Amateur fiction writer in Seattle, keeping company with no pets right now, just houseplants and tea or coffee depending on the hour. Most of my posts live in First Time. I have a soft spot for the shared secret, real conversation before the bedroom door closes, and clear enthusiasm once it does. I read every comment even when I am slow to reply. Hope you find something here worth bookmarking. Ranked by how many readers finish them. Some are free to read in full; the rest open with a free preview.
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I got the grease gun up under the axle of chute four and squeezed until the fitting took what it wanted.
I turned forty-three on a Tuesday, which is nobody's favorite birthday, let's be honest.
I'm fifty-two years old, and until a year ago the most reckless thing I did on a Friday night was leave the dishes until Saturday.
Three months ago I was a man with a five-year plan.