Junk Mail Junkies
Venita Louise
The corner of Roy’s
mouth tipped up in a crooked grin as he looked around at
Harry’s latest pigsty. It was a Goldenwest singlewide. The
natural wood grain was photographed veneer but glued
nicely from floor to ceiling, panel so thin it cracked
from the sound of a loud fart.
Excerpt
Harry grabbed a handful
of envelopes and slapped them on the table. “Quit your
complainin’ you should be glad that I’m lettin’ you help.”
Roy snorted. “Come on Harry, you really think you’re gonna
make any money doin' this?” He shook his head and took a
long pull from his Budweiser.
“The ad says you can make up to five thousand dollars a
month in your spare time,” Harry said whacking a pack of
Camel’s three times hard against the heel of his hand.
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