26 Dollar Typo
Guess who forgot what day it is…
I know, it’s crazy right. How could I of all people forget that today is Wednesday, the most important day of the week around here. I have a good excuse… Well, not really cause excuses are never good. But there are reasons. Cause reasons are all we ever really need to know right.
If you are new around here, you are probably wondering what the heck it is I am talking about. You see, today is Wednesday. It is the day voting begins for the Indies Unlimited flash fiction challenge. We have a new story every week.
It isn’t like I completely forgot mind you but I am posting a bit later than normal. Usually I schedule the post to publish while I am in one of my classes. But well, this week I kinda forgot to do that. And I didn’t realize I had forgotten till I was in class and no where near anyway able to actually get the post up. But I guess at this point I have jabbered for far too long and really we just want to read the story at this point.
26 Dollar Typo
photo by K.S. Brooks
George walked the halls of his old high school with the lavishly-wrapped package in hand. He’d seen it in the airport and immediately knew it would be the perfect gift for Mrs. Davies – his English teacher during his senior year. George grinned as he smoothed the lapel of his Armani suit. She’d told him he’d never amount to anything. He’d already proved her wrong, and then some. Now, he couldn’t wait to see the look on her face when she saw him…and opened the gift. He knew the twenty-six dollar sign was going to be worth every penny…
He caught his breath as he neared her classroom. The excitement and anticipation was a bit more than George had counted on. Mrs. Davies assessment of his abilities, well, the sting was still dug into him pretty deep.
The thing that hurt the worst though, the thing that still haunted him even now, she said it in front of not only the entire class that day, but in front of Stanley. Stanley and George had competed all through school to outdo each other. And when they crossed the stage at graduation, it had been Stanley Liebowitz that walked across as valedictorian.
But George had done well for himself. Built his company from scratch. His sprockets were selling their way to him being listed as one of the top 100 most eligible bachelors. George’s Sprockets were a Fortune 500 movers and shakers company.
He stood at the door into Mrs. Davies room. An old poster covered the window, probably one of the motivational posters she put up every year. He held the handle tight and let out a heavy sigh. A quick knock and he didn’t wait to be told to come in.
His eyes fell on the shrine before he saw anything else in the room. Stanley’s picture surrounded by golden flowers sat on a small table near a window that looked out on the courtyard. He had beaten George yet again. Without a word he dropped the present on the table and walked out of the room.
***