Donald Hefeweizen Saves The World (pt.8)

Jessica Michaellson unlocked and entered her townhouse. She had no idea that four other people were discussing her future at that very moment. She was just happy she still had a job. And that she could smell lies. That made her happiest of all.

She dropped her keys on the sideboard next to the front door and walked through her entry-way into the kitchen. Pulling a protein shake from the fridge, she pondered the future.

“I think I’ll paint my office blue, and buy a few plants for the window.”

Jessica walked across the loft to a two-story window that overlooked downtown Dallas. The lights sparkled and shone in the Texas twilight.

“Maybe I’ll start investing,” she sighed. She contemplated Wall Street and the fortune she could accumulate with careful savings.

“Or maybe, you’ll harvest souls like your father,” snarled a hateful voice at her heals.

A red and white Jack Russell terrier growled at Jessica’s ankles, its fur bristling in agitation.

“Jack! What is the matter with you?!?!” Jessica squealed.

“You’re the matter with me, anti-Christ! Begone!” barked the little dog.

And that really pissed Jessica off. “Don’t you dare talk to me you mangy animal. If it wasn’t for me, you’d have been put down as the nuisance you are!”

Jack was not perturbed. “You don’t scare me, woman! I know who you are, and I’ll poop on your floor if I have to.”

“You’re lying you little twerp.” The anti-Christ was perturbed by her canine’s outburst. He had never been so volatile before. Never threatened her recovered pine-wood floors. “I can smell the licorice in the air. You lie! Ha!”

She couldn’t believe she’d just “Ha’d!” at a dog. She must be losing her mind. And what had he meant by calling her the anti-Christ?

Jack cocked his head to the side and snarled, “Jessica, you’d better sit down for this one.”

. . . to be continued.

(c) copyright 2008 Jennifer J. Knighton


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