The Hero
Fiction. Randall drank of his coffee and folded the newspaper to the next page. Chiefs won, he thought. He missed the game last night on account of the fight. News anchors blabbed on in the background, but he was ignoring it until they said something about construction on the Maple St. bridge. Great, traffic’s gonna be a nightmare . He had another sip and then went back into the bedroom to get his work uniform on. By this time Lynda was out of the shower. “Still pissed at me?” He asked. “What do you think, asshole! ” That answered that. She stomped around, not saying anything else. He was too hung over for this shit. He yelled back toward the hall, “You can be pissed all you want, Lynda, but I can’t change the past. At least I told you about it right away instead of tryin’ to hide it.” “Yeah,” she said. “And it doesn’t change what happened. I hope you enjoyed yourself.” Randall rolled his eyes and ...