Snow White and Ms. McQueen_A Common Ambition_A Little Walk by the Pale Streetlight_Entrance to an En
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Snow White and Ms. McQueen
16“I’m out of here as soon as I’m eighteen!” Snow White yelled at Ms. McQueen.“Wait until I tell your father,” Ms. McQueen warned her sixteen-year-old stepdaughter.“As if he cares!” Snow screamed. “He’s never home anyway!”Mr. White was the CEO of Fairyland, the largest amusement park in the world. His wife, Snow’s mother, had died when her daughter was only ten years old. When Snow turned thirteen, Mr. White’s secretary, Ms. McQueen, became the new Mrs. White.As far as Snow was concerned, the witch who had enchanted her father would forever remain Ms. McQueen; she didn't accept her as the new ...
A Common Ambition
"This is it, the start of my new and prosperous career." Bill was looking at the door to the First National Bank of Northfield. "History was changed in this town," a young man about Bill's age remarked. Both men were enjoying a tour of Northfield, Minnesota, the famous town that dared to fight the infamous James-Younger Gang. "Yes. Have you ever wondered what would have happened if the bank robbers had been better prepared?" Bill turned to introduce himself. "My name is Bill Wilson," he held out his hand. "No one in Minnesota wants to contemplate a different out...
A Little Walk by the Pale Streetlight
“I said, excuse me!” Robbie yelled. This time, his third attempt to apologize, he got a little louder and added an exaggerated ‘curtseying’ arm motion. He admitted to himself that it was mostly his fault the two men had bumped into each other, but that was no reason for this guy to be so rude. Robbie had been walking along, trying to remember where he was and why he was out walking. It was like he had either just woken up or a fog bank had descended upon his brain, he was having a hard time thinking straight. Anyway, he hawww.onedoor.ccd bumped into the other man, who had also been pre-occupied while he was...
Entrance to an Enigma
I had worked for a small underwriting firm for many years but one day me and my co-workers were pressed into service to help staff an upscale restaurant across the street. It was up the long-ignored steps that ran between the Blight Falls Five-Cent Savings Bank and the Commissary Exchange Trust. At the top of the steps was old outdoor business arcade I had never seen; it backed up to the rear wall of the hulking Bureau of Missing Information. I spotted the Blackburn Grill and unhappily stepped inside. My boss, who had just gone from CEO of his own firm to assistant maître de, assured me it was...