Finke The Fox_St. Regis Showdown_Holes In My Story_The Coin
Catalog Guide:
Finke The Fox
My name is Finke. Finke the Fox. I was never the cleverest pup in the litter. But my ability to hold my tongue has made me cleverer than many, I suppose. Bilifin, my now-deceased cousin, was too loose with his tongue. He should have stuck to licking chicken morsels. Instead, he got friendly with some little men on their homestead. They were not much bigger than he. The little men waddled to fetch their taller friends, hollering all the while. So I heard. Bilifin was never seen again. The poor fool. Some say he was blinded, skinned, then burned at the settlement. Others say the hounds tore him...
St. Regis Showdown
After boarding the Boeing 737, I take my window seat in first class and try not to be noticed. Pretending to fidget with the tray table, I hide behind my EarPods (Taylor Swift in a resounding beat, ‘…and even though you want to, please try to never grow up,’ goes on and on). Now undisturbed in my shell, I check out the other passengers: a well-dwww.onedoor.ccressed man across the aisle in a cowboy hat drinking some kind of brown liquor on ice; sitting in the two seats in front of him is a middle-aged cashmere clad couple, both reading from i-Pads, the Wall Street Journal on the woman’s screen; and in front ...
Holes In My Story
Holes in My Story “So what's the catch?” “The catch is I can't get the clasp to catch. This is bad!” “Nah, that's good.” “Why is that good?” “I really didn't want to jump out of a perfectly good airplane anyway. Makes no sense.” “Okay, that's good then.” “Nope, that's bad.” “Why is that bad.” “I'll never get my bucket list completed.” “Oh, that is bad.” “Nah, that's good.” “How is it good?” “There is a hole in my bucket any way. All my dreams and aspirations are slipping away.” “Well, can't you fix it.” “No, I left the flex-seal in my car.” “Where is your car?” “In my garage.” “So go get it.” ...
The Coin
Gary Craver’s auction hall was engulfed in searing, rising orange flames that emitted pale gray smoke that blanketed the surrounding area. The firefighters rushed towards the flames, sirens ringing throughout the city, the sound bounced off the brick walls of the building amplifying the bells. They rushed around like ants around their meal, organized but scattered as they struggled to put on heavy vests and protective gear. They had one task in mind, to save the antiques. The antique items range from two hundred thousand dollars maps, up to six hundred million dollars paintings. They are very...