The Minutemen of Overland Park, KS
by Bryan Thompson
genre:
Literature & Fiction
description:
Mikey Burns is as predictable as they come. A banker who jumps at his own shadow, he is unquestionably committed to his career, his marriage, and his own schedule (down to the last second). When his new boss - an egomaniac who is downsizing left and right - threatens to fire him, Mikey snaps and begins - along with a small group of other professionals - a string of bank robberies in the Kansas City area.
Here are the first three pages of the novel I am currently writing. I hope you enjoy them.
chapters
chapter 1:
Petroli Federal
Petroli Federal
chapter 1
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updated 07/05/08
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3516 characters
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1 person liked it
Mikey Burns fumbled with the inhaler as it left his right trouser pocket and moved to his mouth with the speed of a Chaplin film. The [gasp:] of inhalation went unnoticed by everyone in the cubicles. This happened at least six times a day. The speed and the sudden sound of escaping air also went unnoticed as the inhaler found its way back in Mikey’s trouser pocket, again his right one; again, with the speed of the frame-rate of Modern Times.
For the fifth time during the day, Mikey made his way past the new accounts cubicles and the customer service desk. Not one of the six women and four men working these stations paid any attention with the exception of Patricia, and that was only because she was new and Mikey had been the one to interview her. She’d thought he was kind of cute, though she didn’t know him that well. The nervous inhaler trick, that was cute the first month-and-a-half, all the girls (and Grady Peacock) had said. After that, you pretty much knew all you needed to know about Mikey Burns.
Of course, Mikey was also married and was one of those guys who didn’t think about that sort of thing after he’d said his vows. He was, in essence, oblivious.
After a moment, Patricia went back to work.
Mikey walked across the open floor where seven people all over the age of seventy waited in line for their favorite teller’s light to come on with the [ding:] that followed. Mikey passed the tellers, none of whom glanced in his direction.
When he reached the door leading into the drive-up room, he froze. He looked down at his hand and tried to still its shaky status. It worked for a second, then started to shake again. Mikey closed his eyes, placed his hand in his right trouser pocket and gripped the bright blue cylinder he had taken out only moments before.
“I just used you,” he said to nobody, and after two deep breaths, released his grip on the inhaler. “I just used you, I just used you,” he continued to say as he opened the door.
The door opened on Charlie Beaker, the new British guy who’d been hired because Elaine Donnelly thought his accent was cute. Charlie was all right, though. He did his job, and was a favorite of customers - again, because of the accent. Thaunk youuu for yore commitment to Petroli Fed’ral, mate. Have a grate daigh.
Then, there was Melissa Mathis, who had been caught twice that day on the phone with her boyfriend. She was, for the second time that week, the only professional in the building wearing jeans and exposing her tattoo.
Mikey closed his eyes in a mad blink twice. He began to reach for his inhaler and then stopped. He took in two deep breaths and said, “Melissa?”
Melissa turned her head in his direction. “Yeah?” This was followed by two smacks of gum.
“Can I have a word?” Mikey asked.
Melissa stared for a moment, then said, “Sure.”
“In my office?” Mikey said. Then, he reached in his left trouser pocket and pulled out the handkerchief and wiped his sweaty brow.
Melissa was unresponsive almost entirely before heaving a heavy sigh and standing up from the chair she’d been slouching in. Mikey backed up behind the door and gave an obvious out-of-the-way gesture, which was entirely unnecessary. Melissa walked passed without giving him so much as a second glance. Mikey wiped his brow again, pushed his glasses up his nose, and then swiped the inhaler from his right pocket and breathed in as the tip fell upon his lips.
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For the fifth time during the day, Mikey made his way past the new accounts cubicles and the customer service desk. Not one of the six women and four men working these stations paid any attention with the exception of Patricia, and that was only because she was new and Mikey had been the one to interview her. She’d thought he was kind of cute, though she didn’t know him that well. The nervous inhaler trick, that was cute the first month-and-a-half, all the girls (and Grady Peacock) had said. After that, you pretty much knew all you needed to know about Mikey Burns.
Of course, Mikey was also married and was one of those guys who didn’t think about that sort of thing after he’d said his vows. He was, in essence, oblivious.
After a moment, Patricia went back to work.
Mikey walked across the open floor where seven people all over the age of seventy waited in line for their favorite teller’s light to come on with the [ding:] that followed. Mikey passed the tellers, none of whom glanced in his direction.
When he reached the door leading into the drive-up room, he froze. He looked down at his hand and tried to still its shaky status. It worked for a second, then started to shake again. Mikey closed his eyes, placed his hand in his right trouser pocket and gripped the bright blue cylinder he had taken out only moments before.
“I just used you,” he said to nobody, and after two deep breaths, released his grip on the inhaler. “I just used you, I just used you,” he continued to say as he opened the door.
The door opened on Charlie Beaker, the new British guy who’d been hired because Elaine Donnelly thought his accent was cute. Charlie was all right, though. He did his job, and was a favorite of customers - again, because of the accent. Thaunk youuu for yore commitment to Petroli Fed’ral, mate. Have a grate daigh.
Then, there was Melissa Mathis, who had been caught twice that day on the phone with her boyfriend. She was, for the second time that week, the only professional in the building wearing jeans and exposing her tattoo.
Mikey closed his eyes in a mad blink twice. He began to reach for his inhaler and then stopped. He took in two deep breaths and said, “Melissa?”
Melissa turned her head in his direction. “Yeah?” This was followed by two smacks of gum.
“Can I have a word?” Mikey asked.
Melissa stared for a moment, then said, “Sure.”
“In my office?” Mikey said. Then, he reached in his left trouser pocket and pulled out the handkerchief and wiped his sweaty brow.
Melissa was unresponsive almost entirely before heaving a heavy sigh and standing up from the chair she’d been slouching in. Mikey backed up behind the door and gave an obvious out-of-the-way gesture, which was entirely unnecessary. Melissa walked passed without giving him so much as a second glance. Mikey wiped his brow again, pushed his glasses up his nose, and then swiped the inhaler from his right pocket and breathed in as the tip fell upon his lips.
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