The Sale. Part 4. A short story.

The crazy lady was right up in my face, spittle flicking onto my cheek as she voiced her objection. I backed up, hands raised. “Look, I’m really sorry,” I said. “I really didn’t know you had a tragedy related to…cleaning products.” As if from nowhere, she extracted a huge butcher’s knife from its hiding placeContinue reading “The Sale. Part 4. A short story.”