May 13th, 2011 | Short Stories | 1 Comment
The phone call came unexpectedly on a Monday morning.
“Miriam, I hate to have to give you some bad news. We’ve hired someone else for the job.”
“Oh no!” Miriam exclaimed. “That is disappointing!” But in a second she composed herself. “Can you tell me who?”
“His name is Gary Provo,” Rupert Jones intoned in his British accent. “Thank you for not yelling at me, Miriam.”
“You know I wouldn’t do that,” Miriam said politely, perfunctorily. But even in her dazed state she was puzzled. Why would he think she’d yell at him? Miriam was hardly a yeller. Later, when she had yelled at him in a sense, she would remember this little exchange.Read more...