Three-Minute Fiction: Round Nine Stories
Nov 4, 2012 — President Agnew is tired after his daily briefing and ready to watch a re-run of The Love Boat. Next to his glass of jug wine on the kitchen table rests The Football, an old scuffed Detroit Lions model. He refuses to go anywhere without it.
Nov 1, 2012 — I'll tell you this: I had wanted this thing, really wanted it, almost the whole time I was running. I say almost, because at first I thought I couldn't win.
Oct 28, 2012 — It was to be her fifth State of the Union address. Under other circumstances, her history of past oratorical success would have calmed her nerves. The speech was well-written, quite possibly her best ever. But her delivery would cross a new frontier.
Oct 28, 2012 — Two years after faking his death, Warren Gamaliel Harding moved into a little bordello off the Boulevard du Montparnasse in Paris. He figured it was the last place on earth that anyone would look for a former president of the United States, even if they discovered the coffin in the Ohio tomb was full of ballast.
Oct 27, 2012 — He had hoped that getting close to it would steady his heart. It had been rolling like a drum all day, a relentless build with no release. Padding blindly forward, the density of the thick turf caused him to stumble slightly, but he caught himself and kept going. As if it hadn't happened.
Oct 27, 2012 — The president ducked sharply to avoid being smacked in the face by the microphone boom. The Oval Office was not designed for the president, his aides and advisers to do business alongside a camera crew, and space was tight.
Oct 27, 2012 — Their first night in the White House, and he's still flossing his teeth in the bedroom. What is it with this man? She frowns to remind him. He looks straight at her, fingers in his mouth, and shrugs. Turning his back to her, he stands at the window.
Oct 21, 2012 — "Mr. President, can you tell me who was your roommate in college your junior year?" This is the 845th question that I've been asked in today's session.
Oct 20, 2012 — Yesterday I passed a watermelon-red Olds 88 just like the one my grandfather drove in 1960. He was tall, white-haired and certain about things, the image of ancient to a 5-year-old.
Oct 20, 2012 — Diane Branson was attempting to apply lipstick despite her shaking hand. How is it, she thought, that a word of only three letters could grow into such a continent of deceit?