William considered his notebook. Brown leatherette worn smooth on the spine and through on the corners. The lips of pages poking past the edges.
He'd been collecting quotes from internet cartoonists for a long time, holding them to the jot and tittle. He had to hear them speak the words they typed, their gasped phrasing as he lifted their heads from the muck.
And once their words matched his pages, he let them fall under. A septic sucker truck never smells nice and is seldom clean.
"I can NOT believe it! Jason, old Mr. Taylor across the street is stealing our newspaper again!"
I'd been nice about it the first time I caught him in the act of blatant thievery. After all, he was about eighty years old. I could certainly cut the guy some slack. For all I knew he was missing a few screws. He'd acted confused but gave me an embarrassed apology. I thought the issue was done.
Two days later he did it again. This time I saw him shuffling back across the street to his house, waving the newspaper above his head in a victorious gesture.
I'd been so mad that I marched over and rang his doorbell. No answer. That sneaky old fart. I could hear him cackling inside.
So, for the next two weeks I posted myself at the window each morning waiting for the paper "person" to drive by and toss it in the driveway.
I could see Mr. Taylor peeking out from behind his living room curtains. We stared each other down. Once, he tried to make a dash for it but I was faster. And considerably closer to the prize.
"Hon, you do realize that Mr. Taylor is playing you like a banjo?"
"Um, I'm not sure that's how the saying goes but what the hell are you talking about?"
"He doesn't really want the paper, babe. He is thoroughly enjoying watching you run around outside in your nightie."
Well, that was going to stop.
The next morning I donned my flannel robe. As I strolled out to pick up my newspaper I saw the look of disappointment on Mr. Taylor's face as he peeked from behind his curtains. That is, until I opened the robe and flashed him.
William considered his notebook. Brown leatherette worn smooth on the spine and through on the corners. The lips of pages poking past the edges.
ReplyDeleteHe'd been collecting quotes from internet cartoonists for a long time, holding them to the jot and tittle. He had to hear them speak the words they typed, their gasped phrasing as he lifted their heads from the muck.
And once their words matched his pages, he let them fall under. A septic sucker truck never smells nice and is seldom clean.
Now to get to Canada.
"I can NOT believe it! Jason, old Mr. Taylor across the street is stealing our newspaper again!"
ReplyDeleteI'd been nice about it the first time I caught him in the act of blatant thievery. After all, he was about eighty years old. I could certainly cut the guy some slack. For all I knew he was missing a few screws. He'd acted confused but gave me an embarrassed apology. I thought the issue was done.
Two days later he did it again. This time I saw him shuffling back across the street to his house, waving the newspaper above his head in a victorious gesture.
I'd been so mad that I marched over and rang his doorbell. No answer. That sneaky old fart. I could hear him cackling inside.
So, for the next two weeks I posted myself at the window each morning waiting for the paper "person" to drive by and toss it in the driveway.
I could see Mr. Taylor peeking out from behind his living room curtains. We stared each other down. Once, he tried to make a dash for it but I was faster. And considerably closer to the prize.
"Hon, you do realize that Mr. Taylor is playing you like a banjo?"
"Um, I'm not sure that's how the saying goes but what the hell are you talking about?"
"He doesn't really want the paper, babe. He is thoroughly enjoying watching you run around outside in your nightie."
Well, that was going to stop.
The next morning I donned my flannel robe. As I strolled out to pick up my newspaper I saw the look of disappointment on Mr. Taylor's face as he peeked from behind his curtains. That is, until I opened the robe and flashed him.
B. Nagel - Wow! Frightening! (And what a fantastic end line!)
ReplyDeleteDeb - I didn't see that ending coming! LOL! Brilliant!