Chapter One: Chasing Smoke by Bill Cameron
On my list of suspicious circumstances to avoid, cop waking me up by rapping on my car window at five o’clock in the morning oughta be right up there. Not as high as letting a liquor store clerk spot my piece before my badge maybe, but higher than being caught ripping coupons out of the newspaper on my neighbor’s stoop.
Oughta be, but apparently isn’t.
Chapter One: The Stolen by Jason Pinter
I saved the document and eased back in my chair. My body had grown accustomed to long days and nights spent in its discomfort. The first few months, I would go home nearly every day with a sore tailbone or stiff back, wondering if the supplies department would turn a blind eye and let me expense a newer model. Eventually I forgot about it. Then one day, I noticed I hadn’t thought about the aches and pains in months. They were a part of me now.