Lunch Stories

Warning: Very coarse language used in two places. One of the best jobs I held prior to my days in law enforcement was working for an armoured car company. I drove an older armoured truck that would take a tank to dent. The hours were good and the pay was decent. It was one of the only places that I would come into work on my off days if asked. We spend our days picking up and delivered cash and coin to various businesses...

Her face was like thunder. Her familiar open smile was replaced by a thin, grim line of compressed lips and eyes which usually sparkled now flashed like lightning.  Fittingly, rain and unseasonal hail bounced off the restaurant windows as she stared intently into my face. No, she stared at me with piercing blue eyes. I offered a tentative smile and shrug of shoulders. “I mean it,” she said, colour rising to her cheeks. He...

Steve in the Canteen Steve when he's eating doesn't make a sound, for his teeth are in a bag, on the table or ground. He sucks the filling through his bread and the butter, he makes no sound, except the words that he mutters. “ Mfwmf!" I'll hear him trying to say, as I dodge the bits of sandwich heading my way.I'll tell him some jokes, and when he starts to choke, he'll cough, and then he'll, spray. Then he'll repeat his...

Irish Grey SweaterHot Tea and Kentucky Fried Chickenspring just won't come to the plains this yearnorth blown winds from Canadabefore the birds and tree rats wakeI lay in my warm bed and ponderwinter coat or my favorite Irish Greyheavy starch pinpoint shirt and wool slacksas I pad down the stairs my friend Bailey runs aheadmeowing and battling shadows as she goessmell of sulphur as I lit my stovethe cheerful sound of my p...