Stories from the Block

Three Goodwill finds, 50 Cd's, and two speakers.

The following stories are fictional.

Alex was literally sweating. His hands were wreathing, his heart pounding, his eyes darting, to and fro from the clock to the door. Every so often he would take a glance at his watch, or look to the receptionist. She would throw back a lazy glare, as if to say "Relax, hon." But he couldn't relax. Today was the day - he couldn't wait. Alex had been training for years, waiting, wishing, training for this moment. Not a second had gone by that he didn't think about this day, this pivotal, precious day. As the kids ran by, Alex couldn't help but notice the smudges they left on the ground. His hand felt under his chair, and, just as he had thought, there was gum there. And fresh, from the texture. Alex's nose strained to smell even the faintest glimmer of Pinesol - nothing. He could wipe the dust from the window, the grime from the sinks and the dirt from the tile below. Alex could make some changes, here, and in his heart of hearts, he knew he could be doing some bigger, like a stadium or a hospital. Only time would tell.

The receptionist waved Alex from his stupor. "Ready hon?" she squealed.

"Ready as I'll ever be," he muttered, and he walked through the door and sat at the chair in front of the principal's desk.

"Hello there... Alex," said the principal, "I see you want to become a janitor here."

The END!!

Good Night.