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Weekly Contest #364
“Cross!” I heard my name called through the dark hallway. It’s 7p.m. and the sun is already going down. “You working late tonight?” My chief stepped into my office, leaning against the dark oak doorway. “No, sir,” we both chuckle. Working until 7p.m. is not considered ‘working late.’ Heavy rain pounded against the window in my office; the wind forced the arms of an evergreen tree to bang against the panes. The yellow lights flickered. “Sir, you’ll never believe it, but I, Malcolm Cross, have been invited to a Vanderbilt Blackwood...
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