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TOM
Small Pleasures
Jimmy’s dad was a working-class man. A time where the color of your shirt outline the vocation that selected you. Despite limited funds in their home, Jimmy’s day faithfully every Saturday morning wake him up for a trip to the Bakery. It was Jimmy’s job to choose a random dozen donuts for breakfast. He knew his mother favorite and each sister’s. His younger brother would eat anything within 14 inches of his mouth. Choosing for Dad was always a challenge. He didn’t have a sweet tooth like the rest of the family. So, Jimmy chose one stuffed with olives
LISA
November 23rd
Christmas had crept into the incident room a week ago with random cards on filing cabinets and some very incongruous tinsel. I’m only there today as a picture on the wall.
So, the police now know who’s doing this. Except they don’t. Only I do and I’m locked in a basement with a dozen faces that are all more familiar than I’d like them to be.
I’ve told the girls I’m police. I try being upbeat; a lot have been here for months. I try not to think of the faces on that board that aren’t down here with us.
NORVAL JOE
A dozen teenagers gathered in the empty lot across the street from where Billbert sat on the curb.
Buhmilda shoved some bread into his mouth and said, “Swallow quick. Those people over there aren’t some random crowd of onlookers.”
When Billbert’s vision cleared, he saw the burly crowd of yellow-toothed Black Knights, and jumped to his feet.
Buhmilda looked to Mr. Withybottom. “Well, Cuz? Should we take the kids to your place, or mine?”
Linoliumanda’s father looked aghast. “Why do we have to take them anywhere?”
Buhmilda shook her head sadly. “Climb in kids.” And motioned them to her car.
RICHARD
Sold!
I’d never been to an auction before, but I was having fun.
I placed a few practice bids on random items, just to get a feel for things, in readiness for the lot I’d had my eye on right from the start.
Just a suitcase, one of a number of lost luggage lots, and despite the stories of people finding all sorts of expensive surprises in them, I’d a sneaky suspicion the auction house went through them beforehand.
I just wanted the suitcase: perfect for my next holiday.
I won!
The suitcase, and the twenty kilos of cocaine it contained!
LIZZIE
The secretary was rushing back and forth, folders everywhere. She was so upset that a pile of papers started to spin around all the way to the ceiling. “What’s happening?” She threw her hands in the air. “Brand awareness report. I have 10 minutes. 10 minutes?!” He offered to help, but at that point everything was beyond any help. “I quit, there.” And she stormed out of the office, a trail of paperwork swirling behind her. He just stood in the corridor, wondering how she had managed to get the papers to do that, a shiver going down his spine.
SERENDIPIDY
As an apprentice, I’d had it drummed into me: Brand awareness. Nail that, and everything else falls into place.
Your clients should be able to make that instant association, must be able to envision what the future will look like; how it will feel; how you will change their lives.
It all comes down to brand awareness.
It’s something I’ve never forgotten, and I’ve always striven to put it first and foremost into every interaction, with every client.
Like right now.
“It’s red hot” I say to them, turning the brand in the flames.
“This is really going to hurt!”
PLANET Z
I won’t be going to the local donut shop anymore.
All the register girl has to do is put on a plastic disposable glove, pick out donuts, put them in bags or boxes, and push a few buttons on the register.
It’s not like she has to make change. The credit card reader does all that.
And yet, the last screen on the credit card reader asks how much I want to tip them.
I press NO TIP, grab the bags, and head to the car.
It’s not like they can spit on my food, because I saw it all.