“You’re not supposed to touch it! Not while I’m in it!”
“It’s not your computer—it belongs to Sam and me! I’m her partner!”
I’d just let myself in the back of my shop when I’d heard shouting from the retail area. Empty and half-filled containers of food littered the break room table, along with paper cups. A few of those cups leaked whatever sugary beverage had once been held inside of them, all over my nice giant wood table. The sink was filled with pots and pans, and a foul odor, not far o...
Published on April 13, 2015 15:22