Wednesday, January 23, 2008

Dead Man Walking: Story No. 3

My boss rounded the corner with his usual air of piercing self-satisfaction. I quickly slipped my hands out of my pockets so that they could assume the swing of the strident. Out of sheer instinct, my mind instantly cleared, my guts steeled, my breath quickened in preparation for the coming face off.

The hall wasn't big enough for the both of us. It would have to be him or me, and it wasn't going to be me.

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