A new story

The Man with the Snakeskin Boots (tentative title)

Robert worked in a bottle factory. Every day he made sure caps were screwed on each water bottle properly because sometimes the machines went too fast to be accurate. He loathed his job. Well, not entirely. He had Brenda to look forward to at the end of the day and she made the job worthwhile. Without his job he wouldn’t be able to afford Brenda.
“Hey Rob, how’s it going today?”
“Oh, okay, how about you Tim?”
“I’m great, nothing to complain about. The wife’s making my favorite for dinner, pot roast, can’t wait ‘til quittin’ time!”
Damn, pot roast, I wish I had a wife who made dinner for me, Robert thought. He had a T.V. dinner waiting for him in the freezer. He hated how the entire thing went into the microwave at once and the applesauce always got too hot. Robert didn’t even like hot applesauce, it was gross like baby-food or old-people mush.
The bell went off at the end of the day ringing on the hour of “go home.” Robert checked the last of the bottles and made sure their caps were screwed tight and sealed. He slid into his rust-covered Trans Am and let out a sigh as he sank into its worn velveteen seats. With his hand on the cold leather-wheel, he turned the key and anxiously waited the heat to turn on. It was the dead of winter in the rustbelt of Buffalo, NY and all Robert could think about was getting home to his Brenda.


--------------------------copyright Laura Masters (this means if you copy me I will hunt you)