Going On
It’s the night of my forty-sixth birthday, and I’m at the bar. Edwin let me off work early today so that I could celebrate. He’s a good guy, Edwin is. He gave me the job at the motel as his maintenance guy, and as part of my pay he lets me live in one of the trailers on his property. His daughter is living in the other one, the one right in front of mine, so I know he must have some trust in me. And I know that’s not easy, being as how I had just gotten out of prison before I answered his ad. ...