I take another sip from the bottle and I start to sway. I find it hard keeping my balance. I stumble over to the table, I’m feeling really happy now. I’m even peeing in my pants and it doesn’t bother me. I laugh out loud and drink more. I notice people are pointing at me and giggling, but that’s OK. I move away from the table and fall to the floor, dropping my bottle. But I get right up and grin at everyone. Why shouldn’t I feel good? I’m eleven months old and I can walk!
Coast Weekly 101-word Short Story Contest, Runner-Up, 1996
I’ve been working for the family for several years as a bookkeeper, so it wasn’t any great surprise to get a phone call at home from Leon Panetta. “Ben, do you remember last night when I asked you to bring my laptop to Sylvia?” Sure, I told him, I remember. “Ben, Sylvia told me she never saw it, and I can’t find it anywhere. There’s important classified information on it.” I played dumb, because I knew that by the time he found out, I’d be long gone. Screw the CIA. Julian’s group will know how to handle the information.