A finger in the air to magazine people. "They tanked us in the market, but that's not the lead."
Receiving the thin portfolio, "Sorry, you all, would that be y'all, y'all think, maybe of course, that 'someone'," the man held up hands and marquee'd quotation marks, "Perhaps might be staging (i)last resorts(i). Let them know, okay?!" He waved an open palm toward the real U.S. Army people seated at a folding table.
"What'dya give this guy to make him so much more personable?"
"Jesus, where the hell you been Mississipp?"
"Just orange juice," a Red Cross worker checked on a clipboard.
"Here's my Introductory Paragraph," she handed the looseleaf page up to the man on the soapbox. "Guts of the Scientific Research on this are somewhere back there." The line of people changing their minds about ordering their lives went out the lobby door and around a block.
No comments:
Post a Comment