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Submitted to Contest #285
The Markleflurry Market smelled of cantaloupe. It was the only store in town. The pay phone was up front next to the soda fridge, which hummed loudly in his other ear.“Markleflurry Station, this is Janet.”“Hi there Janet, this is Ed.”Despite being the best backcountry pilot in the state, Edward Stevenson III was very nervous with women and had a particular weakness for Janet. She was a small nosed redhead who's worst enemy, and most flattering confines, were the buttons of her floral print dresses. It was her attire today which had perhaps i...
Submitted to Contest #283
My car broke down in Clovis, New Mexico. I called Emmit and he was there before the tow truck, which had to come from Amarillo. “Yeah, sis, you’re screwed. It’s the timing chain.” Emmit rolled out from under the hood and shook off his jacket. He grinned, his perfect teeth revealing that he was delighted by this opportunity to strut around like a rooster and save the day. “Why’d you get a tow from Amarillo? I got a friend back home.” “Insurance,” I said, curtly. I was grateful to see lights flashing down the road. I stalked to the...
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