Rules of Everday Life


“Hey, Monica.”

Rotten breath.  Nametag intimacy.  She pushed the People magazine under the cash register.  Slowly raising her eyes, the outline of an outie belly button showed like a pointer through the black tee shirt.  Specks of yellow, maybe mustard, dotted it.

Rule: ask if they found everything.

'He'll have dirty teeth and rotten gums,' Monica thought.  Aloud, she said, "Find everything?"

He looked mangy with a meth mouth.

"Found everything fine."  Store open five minutes.  First customer of the day.  Whatever.  A dolly creaked to a stop.  Two boxes holding monster-sized new TVs, and ten boxes with the most expensive home theatre system in the store sat on it.





About me

This is me: home-writer, book-reader, dog-lover and occasional poet. I make this website to share my and my friends texts with You, dear Reader. Please: read carefully, don't be scary, upgrade your mood and be king and leave your comment. :)